


In The End

by Crims



Category: Marquis de Lafayette - Fandom, Turn (TV 2014), major john andre - Fandom
Genre: AMC Turn - Freeform, AU, Alternate Universe - American Revolution, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, American Revolution, Blood and Violence, Canonical Character Death, Culper Ring, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, OC, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Sex, Spy - Freeform, Turn, Violence, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2019-10-25 21:24:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17732936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crims/pseuds/Crims
Summary: Known only as Pitch, one woman's journey begins the night an English Major enters the playhouse and enquires of her services. Falling deeper than she ever expected, Pitch will come face to face with more danger than she has ever known and find herself conflicted over a Major and Marquis.





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Short prelude, there is more to come and hopefully to be enjoyed.

The truth was never a simple fate. 

In a web of lies and deception, the truth often became lost or confused. Forgotten, as it became weaved with falsehoods and reality became distorted. 

Truth was danger.

Truth was the man hanging before you, the biting cold wind a burn against your paled skin, watching as his lifeless form continued to hang limply before the crowd and be pushed by the same breeze, his body swinging in its bitterness. Truth was seeing the woman draped in her finery holding the severed braid of his hair within her hand, eyes filled sorrow and longing for the man that had been a lover to you both. Truth was this; John Andre was dead. 

Andre was dead and yet you felt the eyes of another watching you, watching your reaction with intimacy that caused your breath to catch suddenly as you turned your eyes away and through the crowd to where they stood. Lined with the General of the continental army himself, his eyes finding you among the spectators and waiting for you to acknowledge him. It was only a simple glance, a shared moment before you turned away once more and pulled the hood round your face and hid away. You would not let others see, you would not turn away as she had and cry your sorrow for the world. He deserved more than that. 

Now you would watch as the spectators would form an orderly line, remove their tricorns and bow their heads in an act of respect as if they had known the man personally. A social expectation and sign of civility after so brutal a moment as hearing the snap of a neck. Yet one by one, orderly and under the eye of a guard they marched past the still hanging body. Watching from the side, having not moved from your spot you saw the Dragoon, Tallmadge you were sure his name was, approach her, the one that had owned the majority if not all of your Major’s heart. No doubt he was sharing a warning with her, a fleeting moment before the normalities of war resumed and sides were drawn once again. Yet which side were you now left? The side of the deceased or the side of the living and danger once more a looming threat? Your employment was surely as dead as the man before you, your life was to simply return as it had been those years ago? Yet as your feet stilled, bringing you to stand before the corpse all thought ceased. Your eyes met the stillness of the twirling Major, so elegant even in death that it seemed his body was dancing as it had once done long ago in the ballrooms. Yet there was no music, no dancing or laughter, simply the cold and silence as you lifted your eyes to the hidden face behind the handkerchief, the fluttering ends lifting and beneath lay his handsome face. Horror pierced your heart as you saw the bruising already rising from his broken neck, darkening his skin and the bloodshot eyes of a man whose life was choked from his lungs. Still the handkerchief lifted and you were aware of the shouts from beside you, a plea to quickly lower the guard once more so that no one else saw the horror that lay beneath. But it was too late, you had seen it, you had looked into his empty eyes and seen what had been done and felt the heaviness descend upon you. Those same dead eyes watched you as your own body fell to the cold ground, sending your head falling back as the heaviness fought to overwhelm you. This was your warning, the eyes of your employer and lover gazing lifeless at your rapidly cooling skin as darkness pricked at your eyes and you felt the thud of your heart matched by the running boots of the soldiers around you. There was no escape for you, this was your life and he was the one who had made it so.


	2. Slight of hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch catches the attention of Andre with her special skill set.

Three Years Previous

 

The playhouse was expected to once again be filled with spectators, with thanks to your charms and ability to slide another tankard of ale into a hand before the punter could even fathom that it had reached the dregs.  
“Slight of hand my girl, that’s what you ‘ave. For all we know, your good parents may have been crooks. Hung by their necks-”  
“Be nice to the girl-”  
“Anything else?”  
“-But what if they were-”  
“I’ll be outside-”  
“Pitch- Pitch wait-”  
“Yes?”  
“That’s yes Mistress-”  
Mistress. A madame that ran the ring of girls that frequented the playhouse, some of them the back streets and others, those that had a sparkle in their eyes found their way onto the stage. A bawdy woman, cheeks reddened with the strong gin she drank, though under her claim it was thanks to the imported rogue that one of her gentleman callers had gifted her. Rosa, that was what she called herself, though her true name was long forgotten, dead with the very husband that had brought her over the seas to the promise of a new world. It had been the promised life for a year or two, a small holding with a house and money that was furnishing the house. New dresses, dinner parties with the neighbours and those that would progress one’s social standing, it was a life wished for by many. Then, as with many things in life, it was taken from her. The crops failing being the first, with nothing to sell to the towns, the soldiers, the furniture that was the crowning glory was removed and placed into the back of a wagon and taken away. It was a sad day, so Rosa tells the tale, to see the grand cabinet being taken by the “loathsome Mrs Fitz” down the road. And what of the husband,  
“Terrible business, the winter took him, got on his lungs and he was gone within days. Tragic business, left me with empty fields….an even emptier house”  
The winter, that was how she comforted herself to the truth that many knew. His lungs were bad, an ailment he had suffered from childhood, but in the end his demise came thanks to the amount of drink, enough to pickle the dead as someone had once stated. There was of course the matter of the amount of women he had visited, though Rosa had a reason for that.  
“Charity work, donating to those less fortunate”  
“Yes...Mistress”  
“We are expecting an important guest this evening, a Major no less-”  
“I’m sure that Isabelle-”  
“I want you to bring him in, make him comfortable-”  
“I am sure that there are others-”  
“Pitch,” her voice had taken on a sing song level, the almost sugary sweet tone knowing that she would get what she wanted.  
“I have given you a home, taken you in and made sure you’re looked after...haven’t I?” Rosa’s hands stroked the lace on the front of your dress, pulling you closer before the dark glimmer appeared in her eyes.  
“It would be an awful shame to see you without, on the street...back to where I found you-”  
“Rosa! They’re ‘ere! The soldiers-”  
“Well then, let’s get to it girls!”  
One tug more on your dress before Rosa was gone and it was sure that you understood what you had to do. 

The playhouse was already half full by the time you appeared from the street, hands pink with cold and having brought in at least twenty of the people you had approached. Seated, ale in hand and with some girls seated on their laps, it was a welcome reprieve from the cold and rigid duties outside of the playhouse. A risk for some, if they were found out by their superiors but that was always part of the attraction, the risk, the thrill and the comfort of open arms.  
“Pitch!” your name was called through the noise of the crowd and you saw Rosa wanting your attention,  
“Pitch! Have you found him? The Major?”  
Shaking your head, you saw Rosa roll her eyes and her shoulders sag as she sighed with frustration.  
“This is important, we bring him in, we have a-”  
“He is a man that comes here anyway, he will be a gentleman why is it so important-”  
“We have girls here who could catch his eye, a kept woman means money, it’s something we need-”  
“You need”  
Rosa’s hands tightened into fists, eyes darkening once more but keeping a trained smile on her reddened lips.  
“I will not explain myself to you, you work for me and you work here, that’s all. Now, do what you’re good at and bring him in”  
Dismissed once more, you turned and looked at the open door and rubbed your hands together, back out into the cold. 

The doors were shut, the play began and the room was full. Laughter, drunkenness, little attention be paid to the play itself, that’s never what it was about, no it was about the side offerings that a playhouse brought. Though that night, you supposed you would not be able to enjoy some of those offerings, you had failed to find the Major that Rosa had requested. She had sent you to the back, stand against the door and do nothing else and whatever was left would be yours. Punishment, not the worst and you would make your scraps up elsewhere throughout the night. This was larger than the previous play house you had worked, The Bowery, but that had been taken from you all when a question of theft had been raised. Since then, there had been no permanent work, only the places that Rosa could charm her way into. At least this playhouse had a roof and fire, the last tavern had a partial roof and not so welcoming punters. Yet as you stood there, contemplating the warmth of the fire behind you, a brisk winter wind ruffled the ends of your skirts and crept up your neck.  
“Wait for me out here”  
The voice was quiet yet authoritative, a crisp, precise and definite English accent. Turning your head, you saw the red satin against fine grey, the polished black boots and white breeches without a crease, the red of a jacket and matching grey gloves of the cloak. Finery in its greatest form. A handsome face, chiseled, aged with line of wisdom beyond the years, set with inquisitive eyes, a single braid taken from the typical queue and sitting elegantly against the gentle slope of confident lips. This was not a simple foot soldier or inhabitant of New York Island, this was a man with secrets and intrigue.  
“To the higher levels Sir-”  
“Bring wine if you please”  
“Indeed Sir, who shall I say it is for?”  
“Major André”  
The host nodded his head and left the Major to make his way up to the higher balconies that were reserved for those with coin. Near silently, the Major began his ascension up the stairs and your instinct carried you behind him, following him. Perhaps this was the Major you were meant to entice, perhaps not. But that was gone from your mind as you abandoned your post, following this stranger that had stopped at the top of the stairs as if taking in the sights, as if in some beautiful part of the world. Perhaps he had seen many? Who was to know where he had traveled, what part of the world he had left to join the ranks?  
“Move please-”  
“Allow me Sir, you will have more arriving I’m sure”  
Taking the silver tray from the young boys hands, an elegant glass and decanter of wine glimmering off the tray. He had no chance to stop you as you took it from his hands and continued following the Major. The spectators laughed and jeered, the lower levels being gracious enough to throw rotten cabbage if they deemed it against their taste. Sliding along the benches, carrying the tray you saw as he took his seat, cloak draped over the empty space beside him and his tricorn on the seat beside him as he began to pull the gloves from his hands, one finger at a time. A fine pair of gloves, they would warm your hands against the snow, but that was not where your interest lie.  
“Oh!”  
So well staged a fall, tipping the trays contents into the lap of its intended.  
“You foolish whore!”  
A punter on the bench in front scolded as he felt the wine spill down his back and saw you half knelt on the floor, the shattered glass and decanter at your feet.  
“I’m sure it was an accident-”  
“It was! Oh it was Sir, I promise, the candlelight isn’t that bright up here- forgive me Sirs”  
Using your skirts to dab at the Major’s waistcoat, forgetting the tray and shattered the glass and the punter who had stomped his way towards the stairs,  
“It’s quite alright you don’t-”  
“Oh but Sir I must, what kind of whore would I be if I were to not clean up after myself?”  
The Major’s eyebrow raised, a smirk playing on his lips once again but all comments kept to himself as you continued your wiping of his jacket and waistcoat where small splashes of crimson began to seep.  
“I don’t think there’s any more you could do-”  
“I shall fetch you some more wine, I will return soon Sir”  
Gathering the shards in your skirts and taking the tray in your free hand, you left the Major and descended down the stairs and was gone as quickly as you had been there. Dropping the tray and your skirts, sending the shards of glass scattering along the floors, you saw the letter in your hand, sealed with red wax. Slight of hand indeed, you thought as you turned it over and saw the scrawl on the front. A simple slide of the hand and distraction with the wine and whatever had been in his pockets was as good as yours.  
“Major John André”

Fortunate enough to have learnt to read, you deposited yourself into one of the side wings and sat on one of the large crates that housed the wine for the whole playhouse as you began to read through the letter you had ‘acquired’. It seemed like nonsense, words detailing things that were inconsequential and seemed unimportant to such a man.  
“What have you got there?”  
“Letter”  
“I can see that, but who would be writing to you?”  
Nancy, one of Rosa’s favourites. A tall and elegant woman, her blonde tresses pulled high on her head and held in place with roses and a matching crimson ribbon around her neck. Her dress was silk, a gift from one of her gentlemen and her shoes from another with stockings held in place with equally pricey silk.  
“No one”  
“Precisely, so where did you get it from?”  
“Found it-”  
Nancy’s finger may have been quick at their work, but you held tight to the letter.  
“Pitch! Give it to me-”  
“It’s a letter I found on the floor, it’s no concern-”  
“Then you stole it-”  
“No more than you stole that ladies brooch on your dress”  
Her fingers skimmed the cameo brooch that sat on the front panel of her dress, her jaw tightening at the remark you had just delivered in your small skirmish.  
“I told you, I didn’t know-”  
“About the wife? Or the matter of the wife carrying his child-  
“Both and you know that Pitch!”  
Nancy, the favorite and the beautiful there was no doubting in her mind or anyone elses of that matter. But beneath that aloof attitude and need to prove her abilities, there was a heart. She had been the one that bothered with you from a young age, the one who had taught you to read and write, a woman of learning herself, a past life like many of the others that frequented the play halls.  
“If you won’t give me the letter then don’t let Rosa find you with it, you’ve already made your bed for tonight with her, don’t give her a reason to do anything else”  
Pulling a small bundle from her pocket, she handed you the remains of a meal that she had collected knowing that you would not eat otherwise.  
“Keep your head down Pitch, no good will come of you meddling. Understand?”  
Taking the bundle from her outstretched hand, you nodded and gave a small smile in thanks.  
“Get yourself back in, it’s going to snow again and I don’t to spend all of tomorrow explaining why you’ve frozen to your death”  
Wrapping her shoal round her shoulders once more, Nancy returned to the warmth of the playhouse and left you with the letter and chewing on the semi stale bread she had given you. 

The night continued on, the play lasting for longer than you had expected meaning that they had yet to be overrun by the spectators, you returned in doors once more having read the letter over and over until you had all but memorized the words. Clearly it was of no consequence to the Major, he had not even opened it when he had entered the playhouse, probably a letter from an admirer.  
“Drink! Get me a drink!”  
A drunken man ambled his way to you, the empty tankard in his hand as he swayed before you making his demands.  
“Are you out? What a shame. Here, let me help you”  
Taking his arm, you redirected him to a bench and took another tankard from a passing girl and handed it to the man,  
“There, see that was easy wasn’t it-”  
“Tuck me in-”  
“Oh are we sleepy? That’s a shame, the night is young and there’s so much I had wanted to do to you-”  
“You cheeky...but I-I must...drink!”  
Giggling as his hoarse laughter filled the air, spilling half the ale over himself as he rocked back and forth on the bench and watched the actors on stage.  
“Drink away my love, drink it all down”  
Your arm wrapped around his waist, your other settling over the thrumming of his strained heart as it slid to the inside pocket of his coat and found his coin purse. Your other, nestled about his waist and in his side pocket finding money also.  
“I sh-shall...I shall drink all night!”  
His slurred declaration was met with the equally lively agreement of those around him, all raising their tankards and spilling their ale in a toast to their drunkenness before draining the remains.  
“Drink and now…”  
As if on queue, his eyes rolled shut as his body slumped and dropped his drink to the floor, snoring ringing from his mouth as he sat hunched and deep asleep.  
“I didn’t even finish” grinning and sighing wistfully as you plucked the coin purse from him, you pushed him onto his back and stood from the bench,  
“Thank you for your service good Sir, much appreciated”  
At least you could enjoy the fruits of your labour once the night had drawn to a close. He was the second, there would be more that night.  
Some were not drunk, some were and some already lay unconscious on the floor. They were no fun to you, they presented no challenge. The thrill came from those who stood with you, watching your hands and listening to your flattering words and feeling their masculinity soar, before leaving and none the wiser that their pockets were lighter. The thrill was getting away with it, the thrill was that you could be caught. Drunks expected to find their pockets empty, but good standing men expected to have their pockets filled. You simply equaled them. 

So had been your intention with the man readying himself to leave, a merchant, or at least a shop owner judging by his attire. He had been sat alone all night, a mere two drinks had passed his lips and you were sure that he had intended to be filled with a night of culture. Instead what he found was second rate culture and among a sea of lechery.  
“So glum Sir, surely there’s something I can do to help a smile appear on that handsome face?”  
“No thank you, I was just leaving-”  
“Then at least let me walk with you Sir, to make up for the rabble that you have found yourself among-”  
“No, thank you.”  
His resolution impressed you, pulling his jacket around him as he began to make his way towards the doors, but you weren’t about to let him leave, not when you had barely had an attempt on his pockets.  
“A drink then, to warm you on your way-”  
“I’m not far, my wife will be expecting me- I am married-”  
“I am aware Sir, most here are-”  
“Then perhaps it’s time you let the good man on his way home?”  
The same voice that you had heard earlier that night appeared from over your shoulder,  
“Much obliged Major,”  
Gratefully, the man tipped his hat to the Major who merely smiled as he walked past and left the two of you alone in the alcove near the stage.  
“Impressive-”  
“If you’ll excuse me Sir-”  
“You could have a part on the stage, the way that you have gone around tonight-”  
“I don’t know what you mean. I am here to offer my services of comfort”  
Turning to face the Major, you saw him smiling, cloak draped over his arm and his tricorn within his once more gloved hand as he looked you up and down.  
“Tell me, was it a good read?”  
“If you excuse me-”  
“I really am impressed, I was almost fooled” stepping in front of you, blocking any path that you might have had to leave, the Major looked down at you with the same inquisitive look to his eyes that he had entered with.  
“Fooled?”  
Clearing his throat, he placed his hat and cloak down on a free bench beside you both before he reached towards you and nodded,  
“May I?”  
You simply remained with your arms folded, watching as he hummed and his hand brushed the exposed skin of your neck and began to trail down towards your cleavage and the front of your dress.  
“You see, after your spectacle upstairs and upon realising that I was suddenly missing a personal letter that had somehow managed to find its way into your skirts, I took it upon myself to watch the show-”  
“One of the better shows we have-”  
“I meant you”  
Swallowing, you felt his gloved fingers press down the front of your dress and against your skin, your arms remaining tightly folded but you were sure he could see your breath catch at his touch.  
“As I said, most impressive. Though, a woman of your….talents, I’m sure that the drunkards are simply too easy, you need something more challenging hmm?”  
Grabbing his wrist, you stopped his hand as it threatened to graze against your hardened nipple and saw the confident smirk return once more.  
“Intriguing, tell me, where did you learn such a talent?”  
“Being a child, you have to survive. Though I’m sure someone such as yourself wouldn’t understand that”  
His eyes darkened for a second, jaw tightening as he withdrew from the front of your dress.  
“Do not presume that we are all the same”  
He may have considered you to be of intrigue, but your own curiosity peaked. Such a change from the confident, cock sure Major from moments ago.  
“Then do not presume, that I am the same as all other whores-”  
“Oh contrary, I know that”  
His eyes trailed down the front of your dress, lingering on your skirts as your breathing became shallow at the inspection of his eyes, silently cursing his handsomeness and that damn cock sure attitude.  
“Surely not”  
Dropping to one knee, you saw the crowds beside you were oblivious to the event that was going on in the shadows of the alcove, too engrossed in their entertainment. Gasping at the bite of the cold, you turned your gaze and looked down to see the Major lifting your skirts, stroking his hands against your stocking clad legs.  
“But of course, a woman such as yourself will not lift her skirts for just any man with a penny to spare-”  
“Or soldiers who think they are owed for their duties  
You heard the chuckle and breath against your skin, your hands grabbed at the pillar behind you as his hands continued upwards until they reached the top of your stockings.  
“Yet here I am, beneath your skirts. I must be privileged”  
Grinning slightly at his jibe, you held the top of your skirts as you felt the letter slipped from your stocking and his touch removed from your skin as he appeared once more.  
“Whoever your lady is, she must surely have something better to write about”  
“Indeed, though perhaps it is of no concern to you-”  
“Perhaps not, however there is something about the letter, something...different”  
Tucking the letter back into his pocket, the Major turned his gaze to you once more.  
“If you continue with your probing, I cannot guarantee you will like the answers you receive-”  
“Well, perhaps I should be the judge of that” you took a step closer to the Major and met his gaze,  
“Besides, maybe I’ll simply settle for a probing...and leave the rest”  
His lips were soft, yet demanding as they pressed against yours and you felt yourself responding, giving back as much as he would take. His hand settled against your throat, pushing you back from him as he nipped your lower lip. A simple shake of his head. No, he would not take you tonight, but he would in the end.  
“You know where to find me Major”  
Leaving his grasp, you began you walk back out into the main room of the playhouse.  
“And for whom do I ask?”  
Pausing, you looked over your shoulder and gave a teasing smile.  
“Pitch”


	3. Pitch

“PITCH!”   
The scream of your name echoed through the house and up into the room that you had staggered into the previous night. Led on the small straw filled sack, you lifted your head and felt the chill of the morning air, your skin raised in goosebumps having been exposed throughout the night. Hearing nothing, you simply groaned and dropped your head down onto the sack once more. You had worked late, standing in the streets and enticing men into the playhouse, but there had been an incident, one of the women had refused a soldiers advances and he thought it his right to punish her. Without thinking, you had pushed yourself between the two of them and been the one on the receiving end of his blows. Slowly waking, you felt the aching of your face as you began to recall the nights events and your body began to remind you at just how much you had taken. Ribs, face, arms you were sure that they would all be bruised. In the end, he had been dragged away by his comrades and they had left the playhouse. Ensuring Hannah was returned to her rooms and her mistress aware of the goings on, you had wandered the streets and taken advantage of those soldiers that offered you the chance. Taking what little they had in their pockets, degrading them as the soldier had sought to degrade Hannah, you finally found yourself back at your room and dropped onto the sack.  
“PITCH!”  
Rosa’s voice was closer than it had been before, no doubt she was making her way towards you and would deliver her own punishment for returning late.  
“Pitch! Wake up!”  
Rosa stood at the foot of your sack and watched as you groaned and lifted your head, staring at her and seeing her eyes widen.  
“My lord what have you done?”  
“Nothing-”  
“Your face girl! What have you done to your face?!”  
Sure enough, as you dragged your aching body from the little comfort and looked into the shard of glass you kept check your appearance, you saw the livid purple bruise lining your eye and down onto your cheek.  
“There was an accident, something was dropped-”  
“No matter, you will have to cover it tonight- but Pitch, this is why I called”  
Turning from the glass, you saw Rosa holding a leather sack in her hands, similar to the packs that the soldiers wore on their shoulders.   
“I didn’t take it-”  
“No you foolish girl! A courier has just arrived with this! You have a summons”  
Concerned that the nights events had been discovered, you cautiously took the sack and opened it to find that inside was a wrapped item. Pushing the paper aside you saw a pair of grey gloves, not unlike the ones you recalled from a certain Major a month ago.  
“Well child?”  
“There was a soldier last night at the playhouse, he requested me today to visit him before he is dispatched...said he would pay well-”  
“Not in this state he won’t! What are we to do with you?”  
In a flurry, Rosa lifted her skirts and left the room to go and acquire you a dress that would earn her the most coin and something to cover your face. Whilst gone, you lifted the gloves from the sack and held them in your hands and saw the small note that had been pushed inside and took it and unrolled it.  
“City Hall”  
That was all to the note, yet paired with the gloves you understood what was being requested.  
“Pitch. Come, now”  
Rosa pulled you, making your body scream at the strain especially on your ribs as you entered into her room and saw Maggie, Rosa’s oldest friend waiting to dress you.  
“We do not have long”

The dress was tighter than usual, it smelt of old perfumed oils and itched. Though it may have been made of finer material, you felt out of place, dressed up and as you passed one of the taverns and gazed at your reflection you saw that your appearance was no better than what you were feeling.  
“No”  
Skin paled, cheeks and lips reddened with your hair held high and twisted, pinned in place you had been made to look like the others, to look like Nancy. Smearing the red from your lips, wiping your hands on the fabric of the dress you began to pull the pins from your hair and let it fall round your face as it always did. By the time you had reached the city hall, lined with armed soldiers, you did not look the same as when you had left Rosa’s establishment.  
“What business have you here?”  
One of the soldiers stood in your way, gun cocked across his chest as he awaited your answer.  
“Well whore?”  
You pulled the gloves from your pocket, holding them in your palm like an offering and demonstrating why you were wishing to enter. Recognition crossed the young soldiers face, licking his lips nervously as he nodded and turned to nod at the others at the door.  
“My apologies I simply-”  
But you gave him no time to speak, you were not here to hear the trivial matters of these men. Walking along the stone yard that led to the steps of the house, you took in the buildings and the world around you and felt the deep heaviness in your chest. It had been some time since you had walked streets such as this, walked among the establishments that you had.   
“This way please” a steward was waiting for you at the door and welcomed you inside, once more closing the door from the cold of the day. It was a fine building, decorations of the festive season still lined the walls and the banisters of the stairs, candles adorned near every surface and wall. There was a smell of pine, winter berries and wine, a fine wine that you were sure cost more than you could make in the month.  
“Wait here please”  
Left unattended, you looked at the walls and the surroundings that you had entered. Such a life this Major must lead, to live in a place such as this. Shaking your head, you walked into one of adjoining rooms from the hallway and found yourself in what you assumed was a lounge, perhaps a study. The fires lit with pale light streaming through the windows and filling the rooms with a brightness that had seemed dimmed outside.  
“So many books-”  
Your fingers skimmed the spines, well read and loved books and so many of them, surely he had not read them all? That would have taken him so much time, time that he did not have-  
“I have counted each of them”   
“Have you read them? All of them?”  
Stood behind you was the Major, dressed as sharply as he had been the night at the playhouse and only missing the splashes of wine that had been courtesy of yourself.   
“Majority, why?”  
“So many books, surely a man as heavily employed as yourself would not have the time?”  
Humming, André walked towards you slowly and continued to watch with fascination as you pulled a book from the shelf and opened it.  
“A gift-”  
“From a lover?”  
“No...a friend”  
Turning to face him, you saw that he had closed the gap between you both an took the book from your hands.  
“I see you received my gift-”  
“I thought to return them to you-”  
“Your face, what happened?”  
Aware of the intensity of his gaze, you brushed your fingers against the bruise that was now evident thanks to your attempts at removing as much of the smeared cream as you could.  
“It was nothing-”  
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you, that is something”  
His jaw had tensed again, a tell tale sign at his annoyance or when something was troubling him.  
“Was it your mistress-”  
“No”  
“Then who-”  
“It is no concern of yours Major, I simply came to return your gloves and ask why you summoned me here at so early an hour?”  
It was a matter he would not simply ignore, but for now he would answer your questions and buy his time.  
“I simply thought that it had been so long since our last...meeting-”  
“If you asked me here simply so you could fuck me-”  
“Ah”   
Silencing you, a finger raised and skimming your lips.  
“You’re better than that-”  
“I’m good at that too”  
André sighed, as if it was a game that was simply too easy for him but would continue on to entertain himself.  
“Come with me”  
Taking his gloves from your hand, he turned and walked back the way that he had entered not once looking back but fully confident in knowing that you would follow. A small part of you wished to prove a point, to remain stood or turn and leave and wait to see what he would do and if he would summon you again. But there was something else, a need and intrigue as equally as his as to who exactly this man was.   
You found him in the dining room, a table laid out and he sat at the head of the table with the fire blazing behind him.  
“Please, take a seat”  
“I’m not hungry, I should be returning so I can make my coin-”  
“Come now, indulge me then and I will ensure that you are properly paid”  
Rosa would not forgive you if you returned to her with nothing, especially if she were to realise that it was the Major that she was so desperate to catch that you had refused the service of. You took the seat to his right, pulling out the chair and placing yourself down into the soft cushion watching his smile,  
“How can I help you Major?”  
“You shall soon see”  
From the doors his maid appeared, a kindly looking woman in a thick woolen dress and petticoats, a wrap round her head,  
“Thank you Abigail”  
“Is there anything else I can do for you Sir?”  
“Yes, please run a path for my guest here and when you have done that then go to the markets and buy yourself something to eat”  
He handed her a small coin purse, you could tell by the way it landed in her hand that there was more than enough in there for food and some left over.  
“But Sir-”  
“My guests are settled, the dinner will not be served for some time and there is no reason for you to remain here. I insist”  
Nervous, worried that perhaps it was a trick or simply not used to having the chance to do so, Abigail smiled nervously and left the room glancing at you where you offered her a reassuring smile and a thank you.   
“Please, eat”  
He poured his own wine then poured yours, reclining in his seat as he watched you unfold the napkin and place it into your lap. Though you would not admit it, you had not eaten in two days but would not give the satisfaction of eating like an animal off the street. Cutting the meat into small pieces, you lowered the knife and placed your fork back into your right hand and continued on unaware that you were being watched.  
“Tell me, are there many meals such as this in Rosa’s establishment?”  
“If you consider chipped, stolen china as the same as this-”  
“Not exactly”  
“Then no, most nights you find what you can or she has an arrangement with the tavern owner and they’ll put a plate on the side”  
Pursed lips and a pondering look in his expression, André held his glass in hand and sipped the wine within.   
“Are you satisfied with this arrangement?”  
“I have no say-”  
“What if you could?”  
“Then I would consider it a dream and a place far from here?”  
“On the contrary” he reached forward and took the fork from your hand,  
“What if you could have it, right here, at this very instant”  
He teased you, you were sure that this was just some riddle or fulfilling some form of game he played before you were directed to his bed, bent over and the deed was done. A moment of imaginary before the reality, sometimes that’s what was required to get them “standing to attention”.   
“Thank you for your hospitality, but I must be leaving-”  
He grabbed your wrist, and stopped you from leaving, not even rising from his chair.  
“Forgive me if this seems out of place, but a woman such as yourself who claims to have been raised on the streets does not sit at the table and conduct themselves as you just have”  
It would not be easy, he knew this and knew that you were stubborn and would not give him what he wanted easily.   
“Major-”  
“Pitch, it's an interesting name, not your birth name-”  
“Let me go Major, I have work to be doing-”  
“Why were you called Pitch-”  
“Let me go!”  
“Your hair colour perhaps-”  
“Major I thank you for your kindness-”  
“-perhaps you were found-”  
“I was found by the pitch barrels! I was five years old and left by pitch barrels in the city! It was winter and I was left, dumped! Rosa was working the playhouse that night and found me there, I had no name, no family, I had nothing. She took me in, cleaning the rooms after the men left and were finished with the girls, I was six years old. By ten, I was on the streets and bringing the men into the taverns, picking their pockets and saving what I could so I could leave. Rosa found out, she took my money and thrashed me for hiding it from her and as a reminder of where I came from, how she found me abandoned on the streets, she gave me the name Pitch. I have no other name”  
Releasing your wrist, André watched as you rubbed your already bruised wrist and the angered tears filled your eyes. He remained silent, swallowing deeply and letting his hand settle on his lap before he nodded,  
“But you already knew that didn’t you?”  
“I knew some of it-”  
“Then why do you care? This is no concern of yours-”  
“I like to know who works for me, you presented a challenge”  
Confused and quietly enrage that he would dare assume you would accept any sort of proposal from him, you remained standing before him.  
“I- you-”  
“Perhaps a bath, then we can discuss the true reason I brought you here-”  
“No”  
“You have no say in the matter, for the rest of the day I have paid for you to remain here. Your mistress was more than agreeable to the arrangement”

 

You were used to being passed from one person to the next, to having your time bought or sold without a say in the matter. Yet this instance was different, he wished to talk to you, to learn and understand things and had run you a bath and left you there soaking in the heat of the water and steam of the room. The heat soothed the ache of your injuries, letting your tense and cold muscles relax as you watched the light from the windows stream through the rising clouds of steam from the bath. It was becoming clearer as to what exactly the Major was involved in and why his name was whispered in certain circles.  
“Take him away from her-”  
“If she has found a place in his bed then there is little I can do to stop that-”  
“There is always a way to turn a man’s head. Find his and do it”  
She, Philomena. A girl from a rival playhouse and more specifically the woman that had stolen Nancy and by associations, Rosa out of several high paying gentlemen. Now it seemed that she had done the same with the Major and you were the means of their revenge. He was a secretive man who held a lot in the open. He enjoyed the finer things in life, the wine, the arts, literature, dancing, music and women. There was nothing secretive about that, you were sure that if you asked him he would give you a direct answer.   
“Miss, its Abigail. The Major has sent me with some clothes for you-”  
“You can come in, please don’t worry about saving my dignity, perhaps your own, but I am very used to being in such a state around others”  
Abigail smiled gently, though her eyes did not meet your own or look to the bath where your naked form lay under the still steaming water.   
“When you’re ready Miss I’ll-”  
“You don’t need to worry about dressing me Abigail, I’m no lady or madame, just Pitch and you should have gone to the markets at least an hour ago”  
Grinning gently, you turned and saw Abigail nodding and unfolding the clothes over the chair for you,  
“Indeed, the Major is meeting with some officers at the moment...I suppose-”  
“Then go, I will make sure he’s occupied and he did tell you”  
“Thank you mi-”  
“Pitch”  
“Pitch”  
“No...thank you Abigail, for your kindness”  
The door was shut and you were alone once again and left with your thoughts, meeting with officers. Curious. 

You stayed in the bath until the water was cold and the steam had settled on the glass of the windows. Thankfully the fire was lit, warming your body as you stood drying yourself with the coarse cloth that had been left on the side of the dress. It was a fine dress, dark green and the undercoats were smooth and soft against your skin unlike the heavy woolen ones that you were used to. You wondered just what his intentions were, perhaps you would be the entertainment for the soldiers that he was hosting, a gift for them to enjoy.   
“Pitch”  
“Major”  
He stood at the end of the hallway, just before the stairs to the lower floor began. His queue redone and held in place with a new ribbon, boots polished but sans his jacket.  
“I trust you enjoyed your bath, you’ve been in there a while”  
“My apologies-”  
“None needed, and the dress?”  
“I thank you for it however I cannot accept it-”  
“It suits you and I fully expect you to keep it, consider it as part of your payment-”  
“Rosa will not allow it-”  
“Then you may keep it here for use-”  
“You presume I will be returning after today?”  
Cock sure, he pulled his waistcoat straight and walked towards you.  
“With me”  
Presenting his arm for you to take, he waited at your side as you linked your arm with his and he led down the stairs.  
“I have a task for you, of course you can choose to decline-”  
“If I take more than one at a time then I expect double the pay you promised-”  
“I have no intention of sharing you with the men that are here, however you are right in assuming that it is in relation to them. You see, these men were prisoners that were swapped for Colonial soldiers a day ago and if I’m not mistaken there is a rat among them”  
“You mean they have sent one of their own men?”  
“Precisely”  
“What does that have to do with me?”  
He stood you in front of a closed door, turning you to face him and inspecting you.  
“If you do this for me, I will reveal to you what I have found about your past”


	4. Marquis and misery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Marquis finds Pitch in a state of misery

Present

When you woke, there was a howling wind beyond your window. The sky was grey but you didn’t feel it effects, merely watched the swaying of the branches from the cot that you had been placed in. Had you really slept all that time? Yet as the fog cleared from your mind, you remembered with clarity what had happened and felt the heavy, dark pit of despair settling over your heart once more. He was truly gone. It had happened, they’d caught him and you had been made to stand and watch the end of his life surrounded by those you had slipped yourself among. What if you had stayed? If you’d remained instead of running, would this have happened? Perhaps if he’d followed her he would have been safe. As little help it did to the heaviness of your heart, you would have at least known that he was alive and safe, yet there was no promise, no chance of it ever happening.   
“Ma chérie?”  
The gentle lull of the voice barely registered in your mind, still clouded and as heavy as your chest felt. The creak of the cot and the dip of the padded sack beside you caught your attention before a hand was placed over yours in a comforting squeeze,  
“Are you all right?”  
Looking at the hand that lay over your own, you followed it up and traced along the body until you reached the gentle and concerned features of the man beside you.  
He continued to watch your expression, the emptiness of your eyes filled his own heart with concern and a heaviness. Yet all it did to your heart was make it weep, twisted with guilt and recognition of what you had done and for what?   
“Ma chérie, please speak to me, let me help you”  
Help you. He was no fool, yet you had played him and he had helped you in ways you were sure would break the gentle soul and it had all been for naught.  
“I know what happened today was not...it was not something I wished for you to see”  
Young he may have been, hopeful and wishing to see the best in everything but naive he was not. Perhaps you were the foolish one, foolish for supposing that after all that time he would be unaware of what was going on.   
“He was an honourable man-“  
“Stop-“  
“- I only wish that he could have-“  
“Please, please stop”  
His brows knit together with concern as he saw you shake your head with pleading that he stop, your eyes filled with unspilled tears that you desperately fought to hold back.  
“If what has been done to him has saddened you then I wish-“  
“Marquis, please!”  
Standing suddenly, you moved away from him and shook your head as he slowly stood and held his hands up,  
“I did not mean-“  
“I have my duties to return to, please excuse me Sir”  
Curtsying and wiping your cheeks as you left, you knew that he would try and stop you but you did not give him the chance. You wished to be away and if possible, never return to the ranks of these men again. 

What little things you possessed were packed into your sack bag and you were ready to depart. It would be quiet now, there would be a switch in patrol and that was when you would make sure you escape and return….return to wherever was safe for you now. So much had changed, like the tides everything was turning and you needed to find your place in the changing waves. What you knew for definite, was that you would not find that place among the ranks of men anymore. Too much had been taken from you and you were sure that it would not take long for them to realise where your part had come into play during it all.   
“-we better get going, it won’t be long till it’s too difficult to dig-“  
Dig? Why would they be digging? It was really no concern of yours why they would be doing such a thing, but you found yourself walking from your room and following the two soldiers and their lanterns back towards the hill where you had been that fateful afternoon. 

“Right, let’s get this over with-“  
“Could show a little respect-“  
“He’s dead”  
Their bickering only made your aggravation worse as you stood at a distance and saw them stood either side of the simple black coffin that lay beneath the branch where the occupant had been swinging mere hours ago.   
“-don’t see why we need bother-“  
“His excellency says it’s important-“  
“He was a spy!”  
On and on their bickering continued, neither quite sure what they were exactly meant to be doing other than digging.  
“There’s no way we’re getting this thing deep enough, the ground already frozen-“  
“Just keep digging-“  
“You’ve been summoned to camp”  
Near jumping out their skins, clearly having not heard you approach, the young soldiers took in your appearance as you nodded at them both.   
“By who?”  
“The Marquis wishes to do an inspection before the camp leaves, seeing as you’ve been dispatched to here I presume it’s due to your lack of presentability, now, I suggest you hurry along before a further punishment is dealt”  
Dropping their spades and retrieving their rifles, they hurried away back towards camp, tidying their uniforms as they hurried. You’d taken a guess as to why they had been chosen and thankfully it had paid off. Stepping round to the side of the coffin you took the shovel in your hands and staked it into the ground. They were right, the ground was cold, frozen and difficult to dig but you kept digging until blisters had formed in your palms and splinters filled your fingers. Dropping to your knees, having thrown the shovel away you laid your hands on the black lid of the coffin and laid your head there as your laboured breathing filled the silence.   
“Why….why didn’t you just listen”  
Tears ran down your sullen face, your sore and bleeding hands settling on the lip of the lid and lifting with what strength you had left in your arms. Inside lay the slumbering figure of your Major, eyes now closed and the handkerchiefs removed from his wrists and face you let your eyes roam over his bruised features and neck that sat at an angle. He looked peaceful, like those mornings you had shared lounging in his bed and concocting your next liaison and mission, the promise of things to come and the coupling of your bodies. His uniform smart and crisp, only Abigail could have achieved such a feat with so difficult a task. How could it be that he was indeed gone and not merely sleeping? Yet his hands, once dressed in those fine gloves that had caught your attention years ago, were now cold and hard. His fingers sat lifeless against your own as you laced them together and leant your forehead against his chest, waiting to hear the rhythmic beat of his heart and met by nothing but silence.   
“You bastard”  
There was no smug smile, no cock sure comment. Just silence and the echoes of your sobs as finally the emotion of the years that had been held tightly within, broke free and spilled as freely as your tears onto his jacket. Guilt, fear, sadness and longing wracked your aching body and the silent pleading to return you back to the playhouse and watch him walk in once more, or even back to two days before so that you could warn him, be with him and know that if he was to meet his end then you would also right alongside him. Your heated face pressed against his greyed skin as you wished for nothing more in that moment than to join him in the small box and be buried beneath the earth. Oh yes, his heart had been given to another but there was something more to it between you, a connection that neither of you could ever explain but kept you coming back to each other again and again.   
“Chérie please, come away”  
Your interrupted mourning did little to ease the sobs as your body began to shake with fatigue and the cold of the enclosing evening.   
“Please, enough, enough now”  
Hands grasped at your arms as you resisted their pull and plea, merely pushing you to hold closer to André’s corpse. His eyes did not open, he did not hold you back, simply lay there with smattered teardrops on his cheeks and lips.  
“Chérie please, it has been hours, you must return inside before you too join-“  
“Then leave me! Let me die! Let me go!”  
You were thankful it was Lafayette that had found you, at least he would not have you carried away for hysteria and sent to the lord knew where.   
“I will not!”  
It occurred to you only momentarily that such a display of emotion towards a dead enemy would do nothing for your case, make your innocence questionable and yet part of you hoped that he would question your integrity.   
“But I will not let you stay here like this…this is not what he would have wanted chérie, you know this, come away now. Come with me”  
Your mind raged for you to scream at him, how dare he assume to know the man he had signed the death warrant of. But his words rung true, your heart ached and it could not take much more, your punishment would have to come from elsewhere.   
“Forgive me”   
A final kiss was placed on your Major’s lips, a parting gift from you as your hand slid into his jacket pocket and you smiled sadly at him.  
“One last slight of hand”  
Lafayette held your elbows and guided you from the ground, closing the lid to the coffin and wrapping his cloak around you as his arm protectively came round your shoulders and directed you back towards camp, leaving the lantern beside the grave.

He gave you the courtesy of saying nothing else, simply sitting you down in his room and sending for the physician to come and tend to your hands. No doubt, he would allow you this moment before the questions would begin and the details of your involvement would come to light.   
“There is little else I can do Sir, I will return in a couple days times to redress them”  
“Mercí”  
Taking his bag, the physician left and shut the door leaving you and Lafayette alone. But still he said nothing, simply placed a chair in front of your own beside the fire and poured you some wine before placing the glass gently within your now bandaged hands and then poured his own. The silence remained for some time, merely the crackle of the fire or the sound of men outside, the crinkle of the page as he turned to the next in the book he was reading. His eyes every now and then lifting from the page to take in your appearance and the still filled glass of wine, untouched and the sight of your eyes, reddened from their shed tears before they would return to his reading.   
“P-please”  
Your lips stuttered and immediately his book was closed and attention directed towards you,  
“Hmm?”  
“Please…..say something”  
“I am waiting for you to speak-“  
“Accuse me, blame me, chastise me but do not leave me in silence-“  
“You are mourning, as I feel many are at this time...what more do you need to hear from me?”  
This was a trick, surely he was not this calm nor understanding especially at the scene he had unfold before him.  
“- believe me if there had been another way….but there was not, it had to be done. Do not think I failed to recognised the goodness in the man, but we had no choice chérie, you believe me, yes?”  
Your head nodded stiffly, curling yourself up in the chair and looking into the fire as one of his hands found its way into your lap.  
“What happened does not need to be shared”  
He meant at the grave, your all but confession of love for the enemy and the man who had been responsible for many of their follies.  
“What’s done is done, after today there need be no more of this, nothing else mentioned or spoken of-“  
He knew, surely he knew you’re involvement and why you had remained for so long? Perhaps he really was as hopeful as the whispers said. Always looking for the good, perhaps even where there was none.  
“-you can return with us, I have spoken with his Excellency and he is happy for you to remain under my employ-“  
“I cannot”  
His features fell once again, watching as your eyes turned to meet his and you placed the glass down beside the chair.  
“I cannot stay here anymore-“  
“Where else is there for you to go? New York? Philadelphia? The ranks are closing in chérie, there is danger everywhere I will not have you make a foolish decision-“  
“The decision is mine-“  
“You have no choice. He is gone amour, if you return now it will only cause concern-“  
“Then you know”  
His hand retracted from your lap and back into his own, a plea in his eyes as he shook his head and tried to regain his words,  
“I have my thoughts, my suspicions but will not let you leave based on them. What you have done is your concern and if they come to light then it is intended to be. But today, you were granted a chance and I will not see you waste it”  
“So that is your plan? To keep me in your employment knowing full well I have no other means? That all I had was ended by a rope this noon gone? If that is the case then I suggest you send note for Major Tallmadge and have me arrested, for I deserve no less than what André received”  
His complexion paled, watching as you stood and dropped the cloak from your shoulders.  
“You have a day, if you have taken no action by the morning of second then you will find me gone and I will not be found again, mark my words”

You did not spend the night in your intended room, rather you returned to the tent that had first been your home. Whilst new inhabitants had taken your place, you found it empty on your arrival, clearly they were elsewhere or warming others beds. You welcomed the silence, the cold bite of the ground against your skin as you led there and allowed yourself to fall into a fretful sleep, unaware of the turmoil you had left the Marquis who watched the camp from his window and pondered on your words as he paced his room. There was no doubt in your mind that whilst some mourned, others would be rejoicing that night at the hanging of André, after all, he was the head of the intelligence that had brought several of their plans to failure. To some it was sure to be a success, a sign that they were once more on the path to victory and one less redcoat in their way. Tears fell silently from your eyes once more as you took the folded page from your pocket and opened it up and read the writing that had been left,  
“I know you’ll find this. Remember me always, Pitch as I will you. Your bastard, André”  
Above his writing was the portrait he had always promised you, the one you had requested of him. It was not a grand sketch, simply him, sat with a book. His jacket on the chair behind him, his hair loose from its queue. A world away from his plotting and constructing. You held it close, folded it away and placed it back into your dress as the emotions overtook you once again and you cried yourself to sleep unaware of when the cold took you into your slumber.


	5. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch is paid for by the Major and finds herself attending one of his infamous dinner.

Officers dinner 

You had been given a simple task, search the men’s rooms whilst they are entertained elsewhere and if you found anything of report then André would gift you with information that he had discovered. It was a blackmail that you were willing to allow. He offered and you accepted, but there were terms that you had put in place, if you did find anything then he would have to find you and ask you personally, you would not wait behind closed doors for his attention to be caught. If he did not appear, then you would leave and take what information you had with you.   
“You think to negotiate with me?” He grinned, watching as you stood your ground in front of him and did not shrink under his gaze.  
“I know what I want Major”  
He had agreed. That had been two hours previous and you had already searched three of the rooms and found nothing of interest. Now you were approaching the room that he had warned you of, a Captain Simcoe. You had heard the name whispered, rumours of a man but no name or proof that such a man even existed. Yet there you were, rifling through the small trunk and the bloodied uniform of the rumoured brute. Intrigued by this, you hoped to find something of interest.  
“Enjoying yourself?”  
A clipped voice appeared from behind you, turning you saw a tall man with startling blue eyes that seemed able to piercer your very mind. This was Simcoe, this was the man they had all whispered about.  
“Major André thought it proper that your uniform be washed, a simple gesture for those who bravely fought and have been returned-“  
“Generous of the Major”  
“Indeed Sir, if you’ll excuse me”  
You made it to the door, but he did not move, simply stood there still and peering down at you until you looked up to meet his gaze. He was studying you, intently and like a wolf that considers its prey before deciding whether to lunge.  
“Sir is you please-“  
“Of course”  
Standing to the side you smiled your thanks and made your way down the hallway, only for him to call you.  
“Forgive me. But do you not need to take my uniform if it is to be washed?”  
Your back was still turned to him as you closed your eyes in the realisation that you had all but given yourself away. This was not a simple man, he was smart and watched people and knew how to get under their skin.   
“Indeed, my apologies Sir”  
Re-entering his room, you were aware that this time he had followed you in and watched as you lifted the jacket and breeches from their place on the bed and hung them over your arm.  
“I will leave you to rest Sir-“  
“What is your name?”  
“M-my name?”  
“Yes. Your name.”  
André had not prepared you for this.  
“My name is surely of no consequence to a man such as yourself-“  
“Usually no, but I need to know the name to ask for when I retrieve my uniform”  
“We will bring it to your room Sir, you are here at the leisure of Major André there is no need to worry yourself-“  
“I’m not worried”  
His monotone voice, unconcerned and unwavering as he took a seat and rested out his injured led and watched you once more. Even sat his frame was impressive and powerful, you were in no doubt that this would was capable of killing with ease.  
“Good. Perhaps I can bring Sir something to eat once I return to the kitchens?”  
“You may”  
Smiling once more, though your hands were gripping the fabric of his uniform, you bobbed yourself in a short curtsy and made to leave.  
“You may also return the book you took from my pockets, or I shall be forced to inform Major he has a thief within his home”  
He had been toying with you the whole time, waiting to see if you would admit your guilt. How had he seen it? You were sure you had been discreet, simply slipping it into the pocket of your dress as you turned to greet him at the door. Yet he had seen it.  
“Come now, return the book and give me your name and this goes no further”  
His presence radiated against your skin, his eyes trained on your face once more as your hand reached inside your pocket and retrieved the small black book you had found. His hand covered your own with ease, holding it in place and holding it that bit too tightly.  
“Your name”  
It would be foolish to give him your name, it would be all but committing yourself to looking over your shoulder from that day on. A sharp pain in your hand brought you round to your senses as you saw his hand squeezing your own, waiting for your answer.  
“Well?”  
“Annabelle”  
Satisfied with your answer, he dropped your hand a tight smile appeared on his face.  
“I’ll remember you Annabelle, your name will be with me forever”  
It was a veiled threat, but done so smartly it was no surprise why they whispered about this man. He was brutal.  
“And yours with me Sir”  
Whether you had intended it to be a threat you weren’t sure, but you had no doubt that your parting comment would stay with Captain Simcoe as you walked down the corridor carrying his uniform.

“He has a book, a black book that was in the pocket of his jacket. I assume they were names, a list perhaps”  
“A man like that, no doubt he had a list of names. He’s made enough enemies-“  
“You have met before?”  
“No. But there are whispers of the man’s savagery and he is not the only man of his type to exist. But this is good, well done Pitch-“  
“Annabelle”  
André glanced at you from where he sat and looking through his papers, a quizzical look in his eye.  
“Annabelle?”  
“I thought it unwise to tell your friend Simcoe my actual name. So...Annabelle-“  
“Annabelle does not suit you-“  
“The choice is not yours, besides are you really concerned with my false name as opposed to the matter I have just told you?”  
Andrė smirked at your comment and inclined his head,  
“What else?”  
“There is one, he is not like the others. There is something about him, he is nervous even as I walked into his rooms and brought him his supper. His uniform...perhaps it is nothing-“  
“What? If you suspect something Pitch it is in your interest that you tell me”  
You watched with curiosity as the Major turned himself in his seat, placing the letters he had been reading back into their box at his desk.  
“Considering he was a prisoner mere days ago, one lower that Simcoe also, his uniform is near intact. Clean, not a sight of wear or battle-“  
“Well they would have been given new uniform on their arrival, you saw that in Simcoe’s rooms-“  
“I know that, but mark my words, there is something about lieutenant Holmes”  
He continued to watch you, waited until you were stood in front of him with your arms folded and unwilling to move on your suggestions. André’s eyes were focused, taking in your appearance as if deciding what you were presenting was acceptable enough.   
“I concur. Well done Pitch, you passed”  
“I was unaware that I was undertaking a test”  
“Well, let us not say much more on the matter. Rest assured you have proven yourself and I am pleased-“  
“Then you will repay me Sir as you promised and I will be on my way and leave you to your men”  
“Come now Pitch, surely you can tell when a day is actually at its end”  
“I passed your supposed test, I did as required and you promised me that you would tell me...you would give me what you knew”  
“And I shall, but I require a little more”  
Your annoyance must have been evident, your hands clenching in the sleeves of your dress as André remained relaxed and showed no sign of concern.  
“What more could you possibly need from me? You have your men, you have your women and you have the army at your command. Charm your way into their beds...though I dare say that has already been accomplished”  
The silence filled the room, the only noise being that of the world outside and the life that went on despite the business that went on behind closed doors. There was business that you could have been undertaking and money that you could have been making, yet you remained with the Major.  
“There is always a need for people of your skill, it is going to waste in the playhouse-“  
“Again with the flattery Major, I am beginning to think that there is nothing else you require of me and are simply wasting my time. Tell me what you have and let me be”  
Sighing as he stood, he walked to stand in front of you and held out the bag with your payment inside. Your pay for the day as promised and for doing as he requested of you.   
“This is it, you can take it and leave and this will be all. Or, you can stay...until the morning and I will double what sits in this bag. Enough for at least a month, depending on what you choose to spend it that is”  
A month. To make a months pay in a day, for doing so little work seemed too good to be true. Surely he played with you.  
“Think on it Pitch, I am offering you something for the true skill that you have, something that will be of use to me and allow you to stay here where it is warm and no other soldier will have the chance to make a mark on you”  
His hand brushed against the bruised skin, still hot to the touch despite the covering of smeared grease makeup. But more pressing was the matter of how he knew about the bruise and how it had come to be.   
“How did you-“  
“Your art lies with your hands and the ability to blend into a crowd, mine lies in finding out information that is otherwise never intended to be known. Be rest assured, he has been removed from duty and placed in cells for the time being”  
André’s voice was a whisper, his fingers still gently touching the bruises on your face before lifting your arm to reveal the bruises there also. He traced each mark as if committing them to memory, recording them within his mind for use at a later date. Displaying his art and ability.  
“What care do you have for a girl who was left by pitch barrels? In this war, there is no place for someone like me”  
“On the contrary, I have just the place for you”  
So you stayed.

Evening soon arrived and you found yourself helping Abigail with what you could, the kitchen was lined with platters and serving dishes. Wine was brought from the cellars and the silver was polished and prepared for the officers dinner.   
“What do you know of Simcoe, Abigail?”  
You saw the tension in Abigail’s arms as she placed the serving dish on the end of the table, watching as you too placed the sherry decanter on a tray ready to take them through to the dining room.   
“I-I do not know him, I-“  
“I know the face of a woman who has seen a man of their past. He, out of them all is the most memorable...so why is he memorable to you? Have you had trouble with him before?”  
“I don’t think it my place to say”  
“I asked you, if you have had trouble or he’s hurt you in anyway”  
“No, no he hasn’t hurt me...I know him from my previous home, my mistress...he knew her...Back in Setauket”  
“And no harm came to you?”  
“No, I promise you, he never hurt anyone...well, no ladies at least”  
It was insightful for you to know that he had a past, one that had left its mark and was clearly something that bothered Abigail. You would be sure to watch him, make sure that no foot was put wrong and no harm or backlash would come Abigail’s way.  
“What did the Major want with you? If you don’t mind me asking of course?”  
“Not at all, he uh…he has paid for my services, to assist him in tonight’s dinner...no doubt as the entertainment for his men”  
Abigail’s eyes were filled with a scepticism you were sure had filled your own when the Major approached you and asked you to root through the men’s things, report back to him and all the while maintain the idea that you were simply a maid of the house under his employment.  
“Surely he doesn’t mean for you to...all of them?”  
“Oh no, no not at all. No, I wager it will simply be to do some act...perhaps sing…you needn’t worry about anything like that happening here tonight”  
There was a mutual understanding between you, each of you held an unsurety of just what the evening would entail and both of you had knowledge that was being withheld from the other. But for that night and as long as you were with Abigail, no harm would come to either of you.

“Let me look at you” André called for you to appear from behind the screen, he had lend you another dress, one that he said would be more fitting for tonight.  
“Yes, yes that will do nicely”  
“I still do not see why I must wear this, you have already said that I am not to lay on my back for them so what does it matter how I am dressed?”  
“Because looking will be enough, you have a charm Pitch that turns heads and breaks defences, I have no doubt that these men will approach you or will say something in your presence that would otherwise be amiss at the dinner table. Besides, I rather think that green suits you”  
You could deny the finery of the dress and the way that it sat, pushing your chest together and pinching in your waist. It was sure to catch their attention and surely present you as something other than a maid,   
“Simcoe-“  
“Do not concern yourself with him, it is all at hand. What I need you to concern yourself with is to convince our rat to talk, bring him to favour you so that when I approach him the seeds have already been planted in his mind”  
“But-“  
“Do not fear Pitch, I will not allow anything to happen”  
His hands pulled and inspected the dress, ensuring that it was just how he wished it and revealing that he was a man who liked things just so, someone who noticed and finessed the finer details.   
“Turn for me”  
Back now presented, you felt his hands gather your locks of hair that had sat at your neck and boring them up, pinning them in place as you swallowed deeply.  
“Speak what’s on your mind Pitch, you have let nothing stop you thus far”  
It was unusual to have a man such as himself be the one to fix your hair, yet the skill of his fingers as they brushed through youths strands on your hair and placed them was enough to distract your mind momentarily.  
“Pitch?”  
“Do you really think I am capable of this?”  
André’s hands stilled at their work, watching the way your shoulders dropped slightly and your quiet voice had suddenly become tainted with uncertainty. This was entering into realms you had no experience, no true understanding and yet as he turned you to face him you saw the resolution in his expression.  
“Tell me a reason you would not be?”  
More questions, never a straight answer.  
“I know you have another, Philomena...why not use her? She is more experienced than myself and yet you presume to use me? I am no Philomena-“  
“No you’re not, which is precisely why I have chosen you. I did not lie when I said you had a particular set of skills. She has hers, you have yours and if I required hers then I would have her here alongside you playing the men in the way that she can. But she is not here and you are, is that reason enough for you?”  
“Set of skills”  
Andre placed his finger beneath your chin and raised your head to meet his gaze, still inspecting you but with an understanding to his eyes.  
“I chose you Pitch and I have very good taste”  
You scoffed as the cock sure attitude returned and he merely grinned but continued to watch you, seeing your own smirk return. But suddenly his smile faltered as he narrowed his eyes and watched your face,   
“How did you know about Philomena?”  
“You think yourself the only one with connections Major?”  
You sauntered away and left him there, watching the skirts of your dress disappear into the hallway and leaving him alone. He was sure that tonight would be an interesting event for all. 

All was going well. The wine flowed, the dinner was served and the men laughed as they were entertained with tails by the Major who of course was the epitome of a fine host. He had them hanging on his every word, making them feel as if they were generals and men of standing and eating at the finest of tables. That was another of the Major’s skills. Flattery and the ability to make even the lowest of paupers feel as if they were a king. It was a dangerous skill, one that you stood and admired from the open doors as you watched him stand and serve the men wine, nudging them suggestively as he asked if their exploits as if they were old friends. All but one that is. Simcoe sat at the end of the table, opposite to the other side where André had taken his seat and sipped at his wine. He smiled, gave a bark of a laugh before his expression would fall back into its controlled mask and he began to watch the occupants of the table once more. He knew, he had to know that one of them was a suspect. A man such as himself, observant and calculated would not let such things pass his notice.   
“Annabelle”  
For a moment you forgot the name that you had given yourself, waiting in the hallway as André turned and looked to the door,  
“Annabelle?”  
Shaking yourself to realisation, you lifted the decanter from the cabinet and walked into the dinning room and felt the heat of the candles that had been lit and the fire that warmed the guests.   
“Forgive me Sir-“  
“Quite all right, is anyone in need of further sustenance?”  
Glasses were held and André nodded at you to pour the men their wine. Holmes watched you from the opposite side of the table, his cutlery held in the opposite hands to the other men at the table. Surely he was not foolish enough to give himself away so clearly.  
“No thank you” Simcoe placed his hand over his glass as you went to pour, his blue eyes staring at you as you faced him and smiled,   
“I like to keep a clear head,”  
“Of course Sir”  
His eyes continued to watch as you stood between him and lieutenant Holmes’s chair and poured wine into his glass. Holmes, just as André had anticipated smiled warmly at you and continued doing so even when you were stood at the head of the table and filling André’s own glass. After the dinner, when brandy and pipes were presented to the men was when you would direct your attentions to Holmes’s and at the conclusion of the night direct him to André’s study having been warmed to the ideas that André would offer and had been presented by you throughout the night. It seemed so easy a plan.   
“Would you be so kind as to fetch the brandy, I feel that this evening will be progressing soon”  
“Of course Major-“  
“Hurry back. I feel that some of the men here would like to take advantage of your company”  
You knew what André implied and sure enough the men turned their stares to you, waiting for you to blush and hurry away in a nervous fit of what was to happen. Even if this had been true form and not a planned event, you would not have given them the satisfaction they waited to see.  
“But of course Sir, I shall return hastily”  
This was the final act, the closing scene and the man that he Major required would be his and you would have helped in sealing his fate. Despite your protests and hesitancy, you felt a thrill, a hum of excitement that course through your body.  
“How are things?”  
“Going as they were intended I believe. He has sent for the brandy and I assume that means they will be retiring to their cards and smoking. The night is nearly over Abigail, soon we will be able to rest”  
“My feet will certainly thank me for that”  
“And mine also”  
You shared a chuckle, both shaking your heads at the ache in the balls of your feet and the ache at the base of your spines.  
“Will you be staying the night?” Abigail asked cautiously, aware that she may well have been overstepping her mark, but you merely smiled and took her hand.   
“Stop concerning yourself Abigail, you have every right to ask me questions. In answer...I don’t know”  
“I shall prepare you a bed anyway”  
“Do not worry yourself, if I do I will find a room. Can you bring the other tray with you? I’m sure that there will be enough of their plates to bring back down”  
“I’ll be right behind you”  
You had time for Abigail, listening to her hum or sing as she worked and the resilience of the woman. André was lucky to have her within his household, you would be reminding him of that.  
You wondered if he was aware of his luck or whether he had always known this life? A silver platter life, a dinner party life, an old buffoon men surrounded life.  
“Secundus”  
Your blood ran cold as you saw the silver glint of the dinner table knife enter into the side of Lieutenants Holmes’s neck by the hand of Simcoe. The crimson stream spattered the white table linen as silence filled the room and the head of the Lieutenant fell and shattered the plate beneath it. Your hands held the glass decanter as you saw the knife wiped on the napkin as he gazed back up to the Major. You heard little of what was shared between them, only that André’s voice for the first time had raised to a yell. Blurred and faded in your ears, you watched the blood seeping from the open wound of Holmes’s neck and you were filled with a sense of fascination. Perhaps it should have been fear, it should have been disgust at the act that had been committed in a supposed civil environment. His blood filled the plate and began to drip down the table cloth and pool on the wooden floorboards beneath.  
“-I pray that woman, can settle your savage side”  
André threw his napkin down upon the table, the candle flame flickering as he did so and vacated the still silent room and marched past you.  
No one moved, the soldiers remained in their seats and Simcoe looked...well, he looked like a man that needed to be entertained.  
“Miss-“  
“Get out”  
“Excuse me”  
“You heard me! Out! All of you and have someone fetched to take this away! Out now!”  
You don’t know where you found your voice or whether they would listen to someone who was only supposed to be a maid, but the room was soon filled with moving bodies. Abigail entered the room and stared at the scene before her,  
“Abigail, leave. Go to your room and I’ll speak with you tomorrow. These...men” you spat at them,  
“Will remove the body and will then be leaving”  
Stunned herself, Abigail simply nodded and stumbled back out the room as three of them lifted the still bleeding body of the suspected spy and carried him away. You dropped the forgotten decanter down onto the table and wiped the hair from your face.   
“You will give my apologies once again to the Major won’t you?” Simcoe approached you, unconcerned by the blood that he stepped over.  
“I acted rashly-“  
“I think it best you leave Sir, your damage has been done”  
Simcoe merely stared and watched as you stood up once more, silently challenging him.  
“Good night Annabelle”

Once you were alone the silence was all consuming. The flickering candles reflecting off the mirror of the fresh blood that swam on the table like some spilled soup. It’s metallic tang filled the air along with the smell of the fire, the food that had been served and the smell of the men.   
“André”  
Your feet carried you from the dining room, hurrying up the stairs where you heard the angered voice of the man you were looking for.  
“Pitch, Pitch he’s angry, I’ve never known him like this”  
“Leave it to me Abigail, don’t worry yourself. Dismiss everyone and take yourself to bed, I’ll handle him”  
André sure enough was in his room, jacket thrown onto the chair as he paced the room.  
“-brute of a man! He robbed me! Insolent fool he has no understanding, no respect!”  
Pulling the cravat from his throat, that too was thrown across the room as you approached him cautiously.  
“-nothing but a bloodthirsty pale fool- I should have him court martialed for this!”  
Eyes ablaze, it seemed that André would march from his room that very second and drag Simcoe back by his perfectly powdered wig. You needed to act and stop him from leaving,   
“Fetch me my horse I-“  
Before anymore could be said or André could march from his room as intended, you stepped in his path and placed your hands on his face and brought him down to your height, resting your forehead against his own.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Stopping you from getting yourself killed”  
The kiss was hurried, skilled as his hands found their way to your dress and began to pull at the layers.  
“Damn these dresses-“  
“Here, here”  
Wanting to keep his attention away from the disaster that had taken place downstairs, you simply pulled him forward until your back hit the wall. Breathless as his hands began to lift your skirts, you felt his lips against your throat and the bite of his teeth over your pulse.  
Nothing more was said as your skirts were lifted and you helped him uncatch the front of his breeches, your leg lifted and rested against the desk beside you. His hands now rested on the sides of your face as he led you through the kiss. He was the one leading this. All of it, the hold of his hands, the way he pushed and pulled and directed you and as he finally entered your willing body, he was the one that set the pace. His thrusts were deep, sharp and for some would have been hurtful, but you found yourself pulling at him, wanting more and he responded. His shirt removed and dropped to the floor as his own hands ripped the front of your dress and exposed your chest beneath. His mouth made its way down your throat and nipped at the skin. Purple marks blossoming already and matching the mark on your face,   
“André” your voice was heavy, wanting and he heard it. Your leg was lifted from the desk as he held you against the wall, the wood hard against your now exposed back as he continued the steady and firm pace, your own arousal trickling down your inner thighs.  
“André-“  
Groaning as your hands pulled at the strands of his loosened queue, André lifted you once more and laid you down on the floor. He wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, hands tangling in your hair as he claimed your mouth once more.   
Your bodies slick with the heat between you, his grunts and breath matching your own as you lost yourself in the motion as you felt the tingling and tightening at the base of your spine.  
“Pitch-“  
“Major-“  
Men usually had no concern for whether their bed mates finished or even enjoyed the cheap fuck. But you supposed this was no soldier off the streets. He was beyond that. Hands pressed to your face once more, you turned and watched him as the blush of pleasure coloured his cheeks as he grinned down at you. Skilled it seemed in more than just espionage, your body reacted against his and tensed as you reached your end. Your legs kept him in place as your breaths were light, panting gently as finally André stilled in his movements. His own breath ragged against your neck as he buried his face there, his release joining your own and filling you.  
“You are a foolish girl”  
Those were his final words as you both fell into a hazy sleep, still coupled and led on the floor of his room.


	6. Where do I go from here

Morning was cold and noisy.

Outside the tent the world of camp was already well under way. Patrols returning, fires burning and the typical sound of soldiers.  
“-warmed him up all-oh. We didn’t know you would be staying here- miss?!”  
Despite the cold and painful ache that consumed your body, it was something else that drove you up and past the women who were returning. Hurrying to the edge of the camp where the beginning of the trees sat, you barely made it behind a tree before hunching over and vomiting. Mouth and eyes watering, you gasped for air when you could and felt the cold biting at your lungs before retching was once more. Confused and feeling weak, you wondered what could cause such a reaction. You hadn’t eaten in two days, too occupied with everything else that was going on, it had been the last thing on your mind. Throat now burning and the bitter taste of bile sitting heavy on your tongue, you took a deep breath and steadied yourself against the tree before daring to try and stand and straighten your aching body.   
“A...long night I assume?”  
“The opposite Colonel Hamilton”  
Turning from the tree, you saw the fiery haired Colonel standing with his dispatches slung over his shoulder. There was a tiredness to his eyes, a burning confidence but there was a reserved look that morning.  
“How are you?”  
Scoffing, shaking your head you looked round to him once more and corrected yourself before stepping over the contents of your stomach and began to walk towards the Colonel.  
“Well as you can see for yourself Sir, clearly I am in a questionable state”  
“I am referring to the events of yesterday”  
Never one to be shy with his statements, this time was no different. That was why you appreciated Hamilton, unless required he would state his mind and there was no question where you stood.  
“I..a necessity for an enemy spy-“  
“We have never lied to one another before, let us not start now”  
His piercing blue eyes watched your expression fall and the saddened smile as you nodded and walked alongside him.  
“Lafayette has told me of your proposition-“  
“Then I am sure that you are aware of why such a proposition has been offered. If we are to continue being honest with one another, then the truth is I should have joined André.”  
Hamilton stopped, hummed and then continued his walking. Confused as to what they could possibly need to hear from you to realise the part that you had played. Perhaps you could return to André’s home, find the letters you had sent, the intelligence you had shared from your observations within the camp. Would that be enough? Would they then realise and stop with the false pretence of apology. It was Peggy Shippen-Arnold that needed their apologies, their sympathies.  
“Perhaps Colonel you would be kind enough to speak to his Excellency on my behalf and see that I am placed into custody-“  
“No”  
It was that simple. Approaching the house that was acting as the headquarters for that moment, Hamilton shook his head and faced you.  
“Colonel-“  
“I will not do it”  
“Alexander I am begging you”  
Familiarity between you both had been easily established. Both orphans, left to fend for themselves and prove to the world that they would and could succeed. It was a shared fire that drove you both and in the end connected you. An admiration for one another and silent understanding of the hardships faced. Very rarely had you used his name instead of his ranking, addressing him correctly and as he deserved, but in that moment it worked and his attention was fully focused on you. Only it did not have the effect you were intending.   
“And I am refusing. You see, losing André I consider as a failure on my part, my inability and you know I do not take kindly to loosing. So no, I will not speak with the old man on your behalf and consider you as a failing as well. Am I clear Pitch?”  
It had been so long since you had heard that name. Your name had been shared when you had told him about your past, at that time you had still been spying for André and had learnt that sharing the truth to an extent was the best cover that there was. So you had told Hamilton how your life had begun, just as André had told you. You hadn’t known that it would lead to an understanding between you both, neither that he would one day call you it.  
“Besides, wouldn’t you want to live, prove a point?”  
“To who? There is no one left to prove a point to. Besides, it was never about that”  
Hamilton hummed once more and readjusted the leather bags on his shoulders.  
“Whatever your point may be, running will resolve nothing. At least here you can have a purpose and help”  
You almost scoffed in his face, shaking your head as you picked at your hands and he sighed as if becoming irritated.  
“Do as you wish but I will not pander to you like some child, if you wish to prove useful then you will deal with what you must and report back in a days time and return to your duties-“  
“Is that an order, Sir?” He heard the bite in your tone and his eyes began to harden.  
“I tried to save him, or at the very least see his wishes met and he meet his end by firing squad. There were things happening that you cannot even comprehend Pitch. There is more to this than you and your loss...you are certainly not the only one to have lost people in this conflict”  
The door was shut before you had chance to say anything else. Such was the way with the man.   
Stomach still churning, you turned from the house and began your walk back towards the camp. Soon enough they would be leaving, moving their next location and it would be at that point your answer was needed. 

As always, the camp was moving, living and working. You should have returned to the women’s tents, began to clean yourself and report to the house where you would follow the directions of the Marquis or whoever you were to be following. It was odd how you had found yourself in such a position. Perhaps they had always known why you there and why it was that you had suddenly appeared in their ranks and would often return to York city of Philadelphia. The more you thought on it the more obvious it became to you at how unsubtle you had perhaps been, but then the question was presented as to why you hadn’t been stopped and why you hadn’t joined André with the noose. It made your already unfocused mind hurt to think on it, complexities were part of the game.  
“You look pale today miss”  
One of the camp followers, Lydia you thought her name was, sweet girl had married one of the officers and had felt it her duty to follow him. She was responsible for seeing to the uniform and sewing ring that would meet in one of the tents and mend what they could. She was a kind young woman just turned eighteen you recalled and still filled with optimism for what the world could offer.  
“I suppose it is the cold, it has crept up on me this year”  
“Would you like some broth to help warm you?”  
“I do not think it would help at this moment, even the thought of eating churns my stomach”  
Lydia smiled and sat beside you at the fire, warming her hands and sighing wistfully but fretting. It rolled off her as she sat beside you, fretting and fidgeting.  
“Is something the matter with you miss? You seem anxious about something? It is not your husband is it?”  
She shook her head, smiling and huffing a laugh before turning to look at you. Her eyes were holding a secret, there was excitement but a reservation to them as she faced you, her knees against your own.  
“My husband is quite well, his Excellency has been kind to him- to us really”  
You nodded silently and saw her smile slowly dropping, perhaps Washington had not been that kind after all.  
“But?”  
“But, miss?”  
“I sense there is something more to that statement”  
“Oh no! No it is nothing his Excellency has done...rather something else and I do not know who to turn to”  
Clearly you were the one that would be sharing in her secret today.  
“You can tell me Lydia, there’s no point in keeping a secret if it is making you as fretful as it is”  
Whether it was your willingness to listen or the revelation itself, you could be quite sure what brought the tears to her eyes as she grasped your hand.  
“It is good news, yet I feel a worry and I do not know how to tell my husband. I’ll be sent away from camp I know that, I’m not foolish but I wish to remain here”  
“I’m sure something could be arranged”  
“Oh no miss, I wouldn’t want to raise a child in camp”  
Your eyes widened as you realised what it was that she had been keeping to herself, her own realisation dawning before she grinned and felt a moment of relief that she had finally shared her secret.  
“Lydia, how long have you known?”  
“Not long, I thought it normal but then realised that my cycles had been regular and...well of course there was our wedding but five months ago and...well, I am to be a mother”  
Her hands now cradled her still flattened stomach but you saw the tender smile she gave as she watched her own hands cradling it. Finding the effort to smile, you nodded and saw her look to you once again as if you would share some wise advice.  
“You will make a wonderful mother Lydia, your husband will be thrilled. He is a good man and yes, you will be sent away from camp but only for the safety of you both”  
“I suppose it is fear of the unknown isn’t it miss? I’ve never done this before….I almost didn’t think on it until I counted back and realised that there was nothing else it could be. Mind you miss...do you think it normal to feel so rotten in the mornings and some days I can barely make it to the pot before I’m bringing up my dinner from the night before. That’s normal isn’t it?”  
At which point your mind was suddenly awakened you couldn’t recall, but you suddenly found yourself listening to her words and finding them reflected back onto yourself. The chill down your spine was nothing to do with the winter winds, the sickness in your stomach returning and the words she continued to speak at you were nothing but a dull ringing in your ears. You heard her calling you back, wondering if she had said something wrong or insulted you as you staggered away. It felt as if the camps eyes watched you, followed you as if they could hear your thoughts and passed their silent judgement. But no, it couldn’t be possible surely not?

Your small room in one of the nearby cottages where the women stayed, those that were employed or even some of the higher ranking wives, provided a blessed private release from the shared space that was the camp. You had been lucky, given the room- how did you get the room? It all seemed so far away, so long ago but that was not the most pressing thing filling your mind. Hands pressed on the door, forehead resting against the wood also as you took in deep breaths and tried to focus, to think and count back. Three- no it had to be four months. Perhaps it was five? Surely not that long, no. No. No it couldn’t be that long there was no possibility of it being that long and there being no sign.   
“Think. Think how far could- when- no”  
You paced the length of the small room. Up and down, back and forth, over and over. Hands gripped at your hair, pressed to your rolling stomach as it all became a blur and the overwhelming thought of the day before. The inability to even count back, looking for an event that would make it stand out and give you the answer. Whilst you paced the room, the world continued on outside the window. The noise of the men and the stomping of the horses charging past, then suddenly there came a yell.   
“Lafayette!”  
Like the thunder of canon, your steps stilled and your body froze. Lafayette. The Marquis. As quickly as your mind had been filled with noise it silenced and focused.   
“Marquis”  
Your hands shook and the small room suddenly felt suffocating, it all fell into place.   
“Open the door”  
As if he had heard your thoughts, knew the turmoil you were in, he was at your door and demanding to speak to you.   
“Open the door! We need to talk”  
Talk. It was beyond talk. That’s what was meant to happen that night, talk, just a talk. Oh but it had gone beyond that.  
“I will break the door”  
It seemed he was adamant. The door bending under his weight as he pushed against it, how long had he been stood there? Had you ignored him? Is that why he was now threatening to break your down down as if you were harbouring the enemy? Oh the irony.   
“Please! Open the door”  
Your hand gripped the handle, the key in the lock and shaking as he pushed and suddenly you unlocked it and opened the only barricade between you. He looked tired, as if he had been awake all night and fretting.   
“Mon ami? Please we need to ta- No!”  
You saw the panic in his face as his hands reached out to catch you as you felt your knees buckle beneath you and your head became heavy, ears ringing as your body finally succumbed and your eyes closed in unconsciousness.


	7. One of Two

You were used to waking to the sound of the other girls running up and down the stairs, or the shrill voice as Rosa called for everyone’s attention and to fall in like a battalion. There was none of that. The noise that woke you was melodic, calming and practised and none or the hustle and bustle. At that moment, it took you some time to recollect where you were and indeed the previous night’s events. When you had fully remembered, you looked around and saw that true enough you were still in his room but had moved from the bed from the floor. You were sure you had stayed there- then once again the recollection of the events during the night. Anger sated, still entangled and sure enough still inside you, André had woken you and had tried to apologise for his behaviour. Said apology had soon been forgotten when he felt your hands pressing against his chest, exploring and enjoying the feeling.  
“See something you care to explore further Pitch? Or would you prefer to return to your mistress?”  
Even in the dark light of the dimmed candles and fire, you’d been able to see the tired grin before you pulled him down against you.  
“I suggest you persuade me to stay Major, besides you owe me my dues as promised”  
“Mmm, I believe I do”  
He’d lifted you from the floor and onto his bed, pulling the remains of your dress from your body and shedding the remainder of his clothes before he was on you once more. He was skilled, took his time and teased in all the ways that you appreciated, of course you returned the sentiment gladly. His hand tangling through your hair as your mouth worked along his hard member, gladly taking him as far as your throat would allow and hearing the satisfied hum from him as he watched, his other arm led on the pillow and his head resting there. There was even a quiet discussion once you both led there, sated, satisfied and stretching the muscles that ached so wonderfully.  
“Will you stay Pitch?”  
“Will you finally tell me what you owe me?”  
“Mmm...in the morning”  
His tired voice was almost as charming as his usual tones, thick and hoarse as he verged on the edge of sleep. You watched him, the way he looked up at you from under half lidded eyes, his hair looser and looking somewhere dishevelled. If you hadn’t of been convinced of his looks before, certainly led beside him and running your fingers over his chest as he fell asleep trustingly in your arms would have been enough. 

Standing from the bed, you picked up his shirt and pulled it on before following the sound of the violin that filled the otherwise silent hallways. Early morning light was just beginning to streak itself across the sky, it would be another couple of hours before the house woke and began its daily routine again. You found the Major in his office, stood in front of the window and swaying as if entranced by his own tune. You would hand it to him, it was beautiful; better than any of the violinists you had heard at the playhouse but that was no surprise.  
“What do you think Pitch? Is it to your liking”  
“Mmm”  
He hummed in return, eyes closed and back turned to you as his melody continued and you took a seat in the large armchair beside the rekindled fire. The smell of blood was still thick in the air, you’d boil water and begin to clean so that there was not as much for Abigail to do. She didn’t deserve to clean up such a catastrophe. You wondered where Simcoe and the others had gone, you knew their things were still upstairs and would be collected that day.  
“I suppose there is no better time than now to tell you what I promised?”  
The music had ended and André sat opposite you in the second armchair, violin led across his lap as he pulled the velvet robe across to hide his modesty.  
“I suppose not, we have some time”  
“That we do”  
Violin placed to the side, he took in your appearance as you waited and felt your hands pick at the fabric of the arm of the chair. Nerves were not something you were accustomed too, yet sitting there and watching André and waiting to hear what it was that he had sent a sickness straight to your stomach.  
“Where would you like me to begin?”  
“Everything- I mean, please...tell me everything, good or bad”  
His expression was considerate as he inhaled deeply before he began. It seemed he spoke for hours, regaled how he had been watching you for some time, aware thanks to Philomena who had told him of an “urchin” from a rival playhouse. Known for their quick hands and their stubbornness and refusal to do as they were told,  
“Of course I had to see just who this rebel really was” smirking he saw you smile, you knew there was talk of your stubbornness but allowed him to continue. So it was that he followed you, or had you followed and whilst that took place he asked around and found that there were people who were willing to talk if they knew there was a reward waiting for them.  
“Anyone will talk for money, how do you know what they said is correct?”  
“I have connections Pitch, people back in England- that’s where you’re from, at least your father is of that descent”  
As much surprise as you felt, there had always been a moment in your mind a long lost memory of a man with a crisp British accent. He had been angered, staring down at you as if horrified by what he saw and you had always assumed it to be a customer of Rosa’s from years passed. You wondered, considered that perhaps that man was in fact your father.  
“What of my mother?”  
Here André paused. Clearly there was something that would interrupt what had been a seemingly easy narrative,  
“André?”  
“Are you sure you want everything?”  
Nodding silently, you fingers worked the fabric of the chair arm once more as André cleared his throat and continued.  
“Your mother's name was Charlotte , Lottie to her acquaintances”  
“Ch- Charlotte?”  
“Indeed, Charlotte Allerton the daughter of Charles and Henrietta. Your father was a merchant, quite a successful one too and your mother was French, from a good standing family. They were established, had residence in London and expanded their business over here. That was how your mother came to be here, she was born in London and travelled over to York City. She was the youngest of five. The eldest was your uncle Samuel, he remained running the company in London. Then came your Aunts, Arabella, Margaret, Marie and finally your mother”  
Nodding you listened and took in all that he was saying, it seemed as if he had created a story just as he had the melody he had been playing moments before. Clearly seeing that your eyes had glazed with the overwhelming information, he stood and walked over to the locked drawer on his desk. From it he pulled a bound book with a red ribbon holding papers together,  
“Here. Perhaps it will be easier to read and see it all in ink”  
You took it from his hands and began to read, flicking the pages and seeing the letters and correspondence that indeed he had had with London. There were family trees, information regarding the merchant business in London and the branch that your grandfather had created in York City. The names of your uncle and aunts, your grandfather and grandmother and then the final pages were documents that you had expected.  
“They’re all dead”  
André waited, watching as you saw the names before he judged his next words,  
“There was an breakout...illness, it took your grandmother first and as far as I can tell it also took your Aunt Marie, she had been a sickly child.”  
“Smallpox...but, how-“  
“Your grandfather and other aunts had travelled to Philadelphia for a business purposes. Whatever it was that had caused the outbreak had skipped them, there was talk it had been carried on one of their ships. When your grandmother and aunt had been sent to inspect the cargo, some of the crew were also reported to be showing signs of sickness. Your aunts and grandfather returned when the housemaid had wrote them and informed them of Henrietta’s death. A day after their return Marie died. The cargo and ship was burned with the dead crew on board, a standard practise but a loss of a large cargo for your family”  
Still your fingers searched the pages, taking in everything that they contained unable to believe that everything you held was your heritage.  
“Arabella married and disappeared, from what I was told it was not a marriage approved of and that is all I know of her. Margaret returned to London many times before she finally settled in Boston and she too married. She had five children your cousins, before finally succumbing to consumption. Your grandfather...well-“  
“What happened to my mother? Where is she?”  
André remained silent and saw you looking to him, he had given you all the information why did he now stop and wait? Perhaps it was all make believe, something he had created that was his skill after all, fabrication?  
“Major-“  
“Your family are all dead, or as far as my sources could find. Your mother, youngest as I have told you, remained in York City with your grandparents, she was visiting a friend in Philadelphia, she was an eligible woman with a good family and money behind her-“  
“What are you trying to say?”  
“...perhaps we ought to wait until we’ve eaten something-“  
“Tell me!”  
André looked at you sympathetically despite the outburst, your hands gripping the papers tightly as you swallowed the thick feeling in the back of your throat and nodded towards him,  
“Please”  
It seemed he was bracing himself and you felt you ought to follow him, but still waited desperately to hear.  
“It seems your mother was the attraction of Philadelphia, many men were looking to establish themselves and women to marry...there were balls and events and your mother attended them all”  
André stood once more, walking to the looked cabinet that held his books where you saw him pull one from the top and open it to reveal a false middle. Within it was another bundle of papers that he considered before turning to you and holding them out cautiously,  
“We can stop Pitch, they will remain here until you are ready-“  
Yet you snatched them from his hand like a starved dog does when presented with scraps. Opening the correspondence and letters you read them, skimming and searching for anything at all that would explain the Majors hesitancy. On and on you continued until finally you found what it was you had been waiting for,  
“I write to inform you….met at the ball, there was no other….you...wh-what?”  
You had read and understood, taken in the words that had been put in ink and yet your body felt numb.  
“Your mother caught the eye of a notorious...brute, for a lack of a better term, but he was a gentleman in social standing. It seems he met your mother and invited her to attend his summer gala. Their correspondence continued throughout your mother’s stay in Philadelphia and sure enough she visited him as he had prompted….I assume you know what I’m going to tell you Pitch?”  
Nodding, feeling the numbness spreading throughout your body once more your lifted your gaze and felt the shake of your hands.  
“...his name”  
“It doesn’t matter-“  
“It matters to me! It is one thing to be the bastard child of a gentleman, but another to be the product of rape!”  
André nodded, his understanding was clear though he wished he had waited until you had taken in what he had instead of continuing.  
“She escaped and returned back to York City, her family became aware that there was something amiss. Your mother’s sisters were confided in of course but when your grandfather became aware that she...that your mother…”  
“Lost for words Major? Or perhaps this is lies and you have simply spun a tale-“  
“Believe me this is no tale, I take no delight in telling you this. Your grandfather was as much a brute as the spineless coward that attacked your mother! You have no idea how many times I considered burning all of those letters-“  
“Then why tell me! Taunt me with it?”  
“Because you deserve the truth Anriette!”  
His shout echoed in the emptiness of the morning.  
“What did you call me?”

 

“Anriette? Anriette are you awake?”  
The voice was gentle unlike the hand that was squeezing your shoulder and willing you to wake. Your body ached, the taste of bile at that back of your throat as you sat up suddenly and thankfully found a bowl awaiting you as you vomited once more.  
You’d been dreaming, no…no it wasn’t a dream, that was a memory. The morning after you had spent your first night with André. The day you learnt who you were. When you’d learnt the truth.  
“Fetch for the physician! Hurry!”  
Lafayette. Why was he there? How was he in your memory?  
The room was a blur and you felt the heaviness of your head as you fell back once more with a desperate cry from somewhere beside you,  
“HURRY!”

 

“Well? Anything?” Rosa stood with her hands on her cinched waist, watching as you returned from your evening of speaking with passing soldiers and enticing them with the warmth of the playhouse and the even more enticing body of a woman. Of course, she could tell by the way that you walked by and leant your aching back against the wall that you had as little success as you had for that entire week.  
“Really Pitch, I don’t know what I’m going to do if you can’t even bring them in, never mind- oh my lord!”  
As suddenly as you had been stood there, you were hunched over and vomiting against the wall you’d been leaning against. Splattering your boots and making a grotesque splashing sound as it hit the brick road, you heard the laughs of passing punters.  
“Daft whore gone and drunk herself into a stupor!”  
Rosa shooed them along, tentatively putting a hand on your back as one of your hands lay pressed against the wall to steady yourself as you breathed in the cold winter air.  
“What in all that is holy have you done to yourself?”  
“Was something I ate-“  
“Ate?! I give you nothing but the finest cuts that money can buy and they ain’t cheap-“  
On and on Rosa continued her ranting, spewing her monologue of the goodness of her heart and giving to her girls and taking none for herself. You had long ago learned to block out her voice, all the more easier when your ears were ringing and you were swallowing down as much air as you could to stop the incessant rolling motion in your stomach.  
“- now I have to- where do you think you are going?!”  
You didn’t grace her with an answer, merely continued walking and splashing your boots with puddle water to wash away the traces of sick as Rosa continued to call after you.  
There were enough girls that night, she would manage to meet her money and you could settle yourself in a warm tavern and relieve the ache you felt.  
The ale tastes sour against the bile that still sat on your tongue, but it at least provided a lining for your aching stomach as you sat straight against the wooden back of the bench you had managed to occupy in the tavern. The warmth of the fire helped relieve the chill of the winter night wind, lapping at your skin as your eyes wondered around the inhabitants that had found their own sanctuary in the tavern that night also. A couple of low ranking soldiers, a few of the men from the docks, nothing in the way of worth bothering over. What they had in their pockets wouldn’t be worth the hassle or effort. Besides, you still had majority of the money left over that you had been gifted for your nights work two months previous. It sat in a pouch in your skirt lining on the waistband, you had used some to purchase a new dress that you kept hidden and used for nights when you wished to work the more exclusive areas. Some had purchased books that you had seen in windows and been saving towards for months, now those coins had gone onto something else all whilst your portion was handed to Rosa and she was kept sweet.  
Needless to say, you were sure that there would not be another occasion such as the one you had shared with the Major. You hadn’t exactly parted on friendly terms. Despite his best efforts to calm you, the rage at his insistence to keep the truth from you had led to a sudden slap and the smashing of several glasses. The only thing you recalled clearly was the shock on Abigail’s face as you passed her on your way out and she hurried to see what had happened. André had followed and yelled for you to come back, cursing at the early morning street dwellers that watched with fascination as a high ranking officer called after a girl wearing nothing but one of his shirts. Hardly the expected scene of such a fine house and gentleman.  
That had been near two and a half months ago and you hadn’t seen the Major since. Though, as Rosa and several of the other girls frequently commented, neither had Philomena been seen at her usual playhouse either. Clearly he had found use for her and you would be put down to another miscalculated venture. No doubt when and if Philomena returned, then the gossip would soon spread and her new found position would be shared. She was a kept woman now, a privilege that most women could only hope to find themselves. In those two months you had returned to Rosa, found yourself bringing men into the playhouses and avoiding any confrontation or questioning as to what exactly it was that had gone on the day you visited the Major. But you would not deny it, even with the hostile parting between you, there had been a curiosity to what he had said to you about your “skills”. So it was that you found yourself testing them, or at the very least testing yourself. Challenging yourself to follow a selected target throughout the day and discover all that you could about them. You’d only been caught out once, the other four times had been a success and it thrilled you for a brief moment before dissatisfaction and the dawning reality of what your life could have been flooded back to your mind.  
“You are a gentleman's daughter!”  
“I am a bastard! A child of rape!”  
Why had he tried to reason with you? What good would come of it? He, André had said that your ‘father’ had earned his reputation as being a brute, what did it matter if his social status allowed a comfort to you? It had done nothing for your whole nineteen years of life, what good would it do now? Why did he hide the name of the man from you?  
“Listen to me, let me explain what I mean- this can be used for good!”  
“Good?! The abuse of my mother- of me and you think to tell me that it can be used for good!?”  
“Yes! Anriette-“  
“That is not my name!”  
“It is the name your mother gave you!”  
“I have no mother!”  
Truth be told, you were not angry at your mother nor had you meant your words. If anything, you felt rage at not being given the chance to meet her, a product of your equally barbaric grandfather who had all but threatened destitution on your mother. Yet despite his threats, she had continued to carry you and give you life. There were means and ways to remove an unwanted child, you knew that and knew the people that would help with such a process no matter your standing in life. Yet your mother, Charlotte Allerton of London and York City had carried you to term. She was a better woman in every way and yet you had not met her, you knew her through letters and the words of André yet you would always maintain her brilliance.

The night ended when you were nudged awake by the tavern owner,  
“Time to leave”  
“How much for a room?”  
“Nothing you could afford, there’s a house down the street for your kind. The gentleman there is happy to take other forms of payment if you catch my meaning”  
The tavern owner leered and winked as you pushed your empty tankard towards him and lifted yourself from the seat, after that exchange you’d rather find somewhere else to stay anyway.  
Early morning was the coldest time. The ending of the night and the beginning of the morning where the light of the sun still remained hidden behind the clouds. But you enjoyed it, it was that time of day where life was beginning again and there was always a chance that something, somewhere would change. As you were to find in that day of December, you were carrying a change within you.


	8. Out of luck

“PITCH!”  
Heaven above would not ever be able to prepare you for the shriek of Rosa’s voice calling you. Shrill and vibrating off the walls, you rolled your eyes awake and realised that at some point you had returned to the house and found your way back into bed. Clearly your feet had carried you just as a pigeons wings carried them home, a sense of subconscious direction being followed. Foolish pigeon, you cursed yourself as you sat up and waited for the door to be pushed open and receive your reprimand.   
“Pitch! Where in hell have you been?”  
So it went. It didn’t matter if you said anything or ignored one of her questions, she just continued on as if it had been answered anyway.   
“-Philomena of all people!”  
“What of her?”  
Hearing your voice seemed to stun Rosa into pausing for breath, stunned that it was the only time you had spoken in her whole rant.  
“She- never mind her-“  
“No, what of Miss Cheer? She has been absent has she not? No doubt kept hostage by that Major-“  
“Hostage! You foolish wench, he foots her bills! Pays for her dresses, finds business for her friends and on top of that, has taken her out of the city with him!”  
“Hmm”  
“Do you realise how close we were to having that? To having one of our girls in his bed and in that position?”  
Yes, you thought, it was meant to be me; you know that well enough considering you took his money so I stayed the day with him.   
“- we will simply have to try with another-“  
“No doubt they’ll know all about your girls by now-“  
“My girls? Are you not one of them now? Is that it?” Rosa rounded on you, taking careful steps towards you as if her rage had suddenly been stoked and was now being redirected.  
“You get a taste of the Major’s cock and all of a sudden you think you’re better than us, than me?”  
“Well, he paid for my services but not the ones you clearly think. I didn’t warm his bed-“  
“Foolish girl you arrived here in nothing but his shirt, are you seriously expecting me to believe-“  
“I told you. I was caught having a bath when I had overstayed my welcome, that was the nearest thing to me as I fled being chased by his housemaid. I did what he asked and you were paid for my time. That’s all”  
Yet the sickening smirk on Rosa’s face somehow unsettled your already tender stomach as she shook her head.   
“Foolish girl, you think you can fool me like you do all the others down the stairs. I have worked in this life for longer than you have been alive. I know when a girl has laid on her back for a man-“  
“Perhaps you’re losing your touch-“  
The slap to your cheek was sudden and burnt instantly. Blinking away the shock, you turned your head to face Rosa once more and watched as she calmed down the seething anger that you could sense radiating off her,  
“Do not insult me after everything I have done for you. You would have been dead years ago if it wasn’t for me, even now I am keeping you at my expense when you have brought nothing to the table and do not deny it. I know full well there has been no man in this bed, in any bed and that my dear, precious Pitch is how I damn well know the child you’re carrying is the Major’s”  
Her words hit you so suddenly you inhaled sharply and stared at her, unclear and hazy. In turn her own eyes stared back at you before she chuckled and shook her head in mockery,   
“You really thought you were sick because of the food? Don’t tell me you have had no inclination towards your state”   
Yet despite her bitterness, you remained in shock. A child? Carrying his child. There was no way that it could have happened after one night surely? Yet as your mind raced and tried to sort through all the possibilities and denying the claim, Rosa began to chuckle once more.  
“Oh you stupid creature, you really had no clue. Well, let’s hope that the Major believes you”  
“What?”  
You had always been able to avoid the worst of Rosa’s punishments yet that particular day it seemed your luck in every sense had run out. She pulled you up from the bed and dragged your still shocked form down the stairs and through the crowds of the other girls,   
“I have grown tired of you Pitch. I thought that the Major would be an easy catch for you, something to redeem yourself after all this time and yet it seems you have gone and failed and now carry his bastard!”  
The girls chuckled, jeered and watched in amusement as you were pulled towards the front of the house.  
“Rosa wait-“  
“After all these years and taking you in, rearing you like one of my own and for what? No thanks, no repaying all of poor selfless Rosa’s work. Not anymore Pitch, you think yourself above us then you can make your own way in the world!”  
The stone steps grazed the backs of your legs as you were pushed down onto the street, passers by watching as Rosa stood in the doorway and looked down at you with a sadistic satisfaction.  
“See what the Major makes of a pregnant whore! Funny really...I always thought you would end up like your mother, turns out I was right”  
At the mention of your mother, your body sprung up and raced towards the door in time for it to be slammed shut and locked.  
“Open the door! Rosa! What did you say about my mother!? ROSA!”  
But the door remained locked, the shutters on the windows slammed and you were left with nothing but the clothes on your back. Thankfully you’d had the sense to hide the remainder of your money and the books away from the house.  
“How much for a quick job then?”  
“I don’t work for maggots”  
It was insulting enough but all bite was gone from it as you shoved past the man who approached you, having seen the commotion moments before. He called after you, insulting you in return but you didn’t hear it as you staggered away. You were on your own, no, you weren’t on your own. You were carrying Major André’s child and that somehow felt worse than if it had simply been you walking the streets alone. 

The noise and bustle of York docks allowed you to escape from your mind. Listening to the work around you provided a welcomed distraction as you huddled round one of the fires that had been lit for the dock workers. It was going to snow, you could feel it in the heavy cold air of the morning. Thankfully most ignored your presence, not unused to seeing certain women hanging around the docks, especially when one of the tent cities wasn’t far away. Not to mention the ‘Holy land’ site, filled with tents and whores and men seeking their pleasures. That was a place of no return, where those who had nothing left found themselves staying and never leaving and as if to reassure yourself, your hand held the bag of money in your pocket that André had given you. No, you weren’t that desperate just yet. But there was no denying that you would need somewhere to stay, somewhere you could afford until you thought about your next step and at least a place that you could raise the child. The thought of it alone made you double over, mouth watering as your body threatened to make you empty what little contents were in your stomach once more.   
“Miss Pitch?” The voice was friendly, quiet and one you recognised.  
“Abigail?” Lifting your head slightly, you saw that it was indeed Abigail stood beside you a basket in her hands and no doubt having come back from the marketplace. Strange, Rosa had said André was out of the city, perhaps he had left Abigail so that she could run the house.  
“Are you all right Miss?”  
Realising she had caught you in a state, barely dressed and hunched over, it was hardly appropriate to say that all was well.  
“Fine. Yourself?”  
Yet you did. Thankfully, Abigail wasn’t a fool and nodded slowly but remained silent until you sighed and shook your head,   
“I fear Abigail that I have made a grave mistake, one that cannot be corrected easily”  
She was kind enough to walk with you, heading back towards the house but not expecting you to go further than the end of the street.  
“He’s a good man-“  
“Where is he?”  
“He was in New Jersey not so long ago, had a guest staying with him for the new year...he is back here Miss-“  
“Pitch, just Pitch”  
“Pitch. I’m sure if you wanted I could convince him to meet you somewhere and talk to you, find you somewhere-“  
“I think we all saw what talking did the last time. Do not worry Abigail, I’ll find somewhere-“  
“Perhaps you could work with me, it’s a good pay and you would have somewhere safe to be”  
Abigail really was kind beyond anyone else you had ever encountered and that was why it had been so tempting to tell her of your true predicament. Finding shelter and work would be easier than the other issue that you were carrying. But it was not something you wished to burden her with, working with the very man that had helped create said burden would place her in the middle.  
“How is your son? Have your heard from him?”  
There was a small smile but her hand tightened around the handle of the basket, two conflicting reactions.  
“Just fine, the Major was kind enough to send something by courier for his birthday and I’m hoping to receive something back”  
“I hope you do”  
Abigail nodded and silence settled between you both for a moment before you nodded and stood from the wall that you had been leaning against. There was something that Abigail was not telling you, something hidden. You would find what it was.  
“You should return to the house, we wouldn’t want the Major to be without his dinner would we?”  
“I suppose not”  
“Goodbye Abigail” giving her a warm smile, you started to walk back the way you had both come,  
“Wait!”  
Turning round and facing her once more, you saw her pull a small purse from within the basket.  
“Abigail no, no absolutely not I will not take your money-“  
“It’s from the Major. Please believe me”  
Shaking your head, you trusted her but you couldn’t bring yourself to fully accept that it was from him.  
“Ever since you left he’s been asking me to look for you, carry this round and give it to you. He wasn’t right for the rest of the month when you left. Wouldn’t talk about it and he hid the papers away, then one week he hands me this bag and asks me to try and find you. He is sorry Pitch-“  
“Keep the money for yourself and tell him you found me and gave it to me, that I thanked him but told him I did not want to see him again”  
Abigail smirked gently, walking towards you and taking your hand she placed the purse into your palm.  
“He thought you might say that, so he said to tell you that Charlotte would want you to have it”  
She didn’t know who Charlotte was, that she had spoken your mother’s name but stepped back happy that you were gripping the purse and began her walk back to the house. 

You found a tavern on the dock front and hidden yourself away in the corner to count the money in the purse.  
“Here”  
The plate was slopped down in front of you, making you jump and a couple of the coins drop to the floor and the tavern owner eyed you suspiciously.  
“What? Never met a whore good at her job and paid well? Pity, though I suppose we work with what you’ve got in those loose breeches of yours”  
That silenced his curiosity as he sneered and turned away, muttering about how there’s no good whores anyway. Subtly you collected the dropped coins and continued your counting whilst taking mouthfuls of the barely warm stew in front of you.   
“Hell”  
Combined with the remaining amount of the money he had given you, there was a substantial sum. Enough to find lodgings and more than likely provide for yourself for at least six months and at the bottom of the purse sat something else. Wrapped in cloth, it was bigger than the coins with a curved surface. Pulling it free you turned the object over and found a portrait laid in your palm of a woman, her hair pulled up into curls and her eyes staring back at you.  
“Charlotte”  
It was a cameo of your mother, no older than you were dressed in her silks and and lace and suddenly your cheeks were damp with silent tears as your trembling hand enclosed round the portrait once more.   
“Bastard” quietly cursing André for presenting it to you, holding it back as he had with it all before.   
Charlotte would want you to have it.  
That’s what Abigail had told you from André. Your mother would want you to have it, have her image? The money? Or a chance. Chance at the life she never had with you and the means to do so. Though you were certain André knew nothing of the child you were carrying, he had seemed adamant that you would have the money and listen to what he had to say about your past.   
“- Philomena. That’s her name! Says here she’ll be back for her next play next month!”  
Listening to the chatter beside you, you saw the discussion of the men turn to the playhouse and the women that worked there. To Philomena, the actress and the prettiest, the soft touch and womanly wiles of Nancy. On and on they listed the names of women that you knew, the people that had cast you away and dismissed you. Not once did you hear your name counted among them. You had worked with them and brought those men into the playhouse, sometimes bedded the odd soldier that you selected. But you were not counted among them. Your mother’s portrait grasped in your hand, you left the pay for your meal on the table and left the tavern heading back into the city.

“Can I help you?”  
The gentleman followed, unsure as to why some street urchin had decided it was their right to walk in and begin looking around the establishment.  
“Yes. Have your bags packed and leave by sundown-“  
“How dare you?! Some street whores-“  
“Whore that carries coin-“  
“Ha! From your latest cull no doubt! Get out before I call the watch and have you thrown into the stocks”  
Humming you looked about the place, ignoring the continue ranting of the man behind you before turning and dropping the coin bag on the floor.   
The heaviness of the coins echoed a dull thud as they settled on the floor. His eyes, widened with shock and confusion found the bag settled between you both.  
“I believe I said by sundown sir. Consider it an act in support of his Majesty”

 

The house was empty save for a few pieces of furniture and you. The man and his family, taken away by carriage and his wife confused and if not a little perturbed by her husband's actions, stared at you from the door. This was your house now, your establishment. You’d fetched the rest of the money you had hidden away along with the books and stood in your new dress, something you’d saved and only used once before. Green. Just like André had suggested for you. Ironic, you thought, from all that happened and now you stood in front of the house you had purchased with money from the Major. One night. That’s all it had taken and your life had suddenly been set on a different course.   
“Madame? May I help you?”  
Madame. Such a change in tone, not sea urchin, not whore. Madame.   
“- the family-“  
“The previous owners of this property are no longer here. I am the mistress of this house.”  
They were taken aback, you could tell without turning to look at them but the scuffle of their feet as they stopped. A gentleman and his fine wife, out for a stroll and no doubt wanting to poke their noses into the business they had quite clearly heard or observed from their window.   
“And pray who are we to consider our new neighbour?”  
No, that was not for them to know. Not yet. 

 

The room was warm, almost too warm and the crackle of the fire being stoked made you groan as if to show your annoyance at the warmth.  
“Miss? Miss are you awake? Bessy, Bessy quick! Go and get someone she’s waking up”  
That was Lydia’s voice, the woman that had brought on your realisation. How long had you been unconscious?   
“Lydia-“  
“Here Miss, drink something it’ll help. Bessy has gone to fetch someone, we’ve been awfully worried”  
The liquid tasted bitter in your mouth as she cradled you and helped hold the cup to your mouth. Her hands fussed, moving things around and making sure you were covered and warm as you opened your eyes and saw her smiling gently.  
“There you are, how are you feeling? Can I get you anything-“  
“How long have I been asleep? What happened?”  
“You were found unconscious-“  
“The Marquis”  
Lydia went quiet but you recalled that much, he had been at your door and all but breaking it down demanding to speak with you and that’s when you had fainted. Annoyance began to surface, you had been in this situation before why had you not spotted it this time round? Stupid girl.  
“Word has it he’s not been his usual cheerful self. Maybe he’s worried-“  
“Lydia can you open the window, it’s awfully warm in here”  
Speak of the devil.  
“Of course general-“  
“Leave us please”  
The door was shut and you watched as he stood in the middle of the room, your bed pressed into the furthest corner beside the window and the fire on the same wall as the head of your bed. Pushing the blankets down you felt the weakness in your limbs and the heat radiating off your body.   
“You look...better”  
He tried. You nodded your thanks before a silence fell between you both.  
“How...how many days?”  
You were not naive to think that it had been merely hours since you had fainted, you were also aware that you had given him a final date and that you were meant to be on your way or in chains by this point. Seeing as you were neither, it appeared that things were going to be a little different. Well, you thought, a little more than different.   
“Four.”  
Longer than you thought.  
“I suppose his Excellency-“  
“I have spoken with him, there is nothing to be concerned about, you will not be….dismissed”  
Perhaps it would be different once he became aware, which he would...there was no choice.  
“The physician has be sent for, he will be here soon-“  
“There is really no need General-“  
“General, since when-“  
“I know what has happened and it will not be a problem for much longer. I request one more day, that’s all and then I will be leaving camp”  
“Non”  
“I will be returning to the city and I will find my accommodation there-“  
“I will not let you-“  
“I cannot stay Gilbert!”  
Much like Colonel Hamilton, you always addressed him as was expected...very rarely was he Gilbert. Sometimes of course. His eyes seemed to haze for a moment and his hands clasped together as his fingers toyed with the fingers on his other hand, a habit when he was concerned or nervous you had noticed. You would have stood and left to prove your point further, but raising your voice had been enough to make you fall back against the headboard of your small bed. Closing your eyes and steadying you breathing and allowing for the dizziness to settle, you felt the bed dip and knew he as sat beside you.  
“What is going on? Is this truly all because of the Major-“  
“No...at least not...please, let me leave Gilbert, I cannot stay here-“  
“Why will you not listen to me-“  
“Gilbert this is...this is beyond me or Major André...it may not be anything to do with him at all...but I cannot tell you if that is true”  
“You confuse me”  
His eyes searched your face as if the answer would be there for him, but you merely smiled and took a shaking breath as you took his elegant hand in your own. It was cold, clearly the weather was still disagreeing with him, soft calluses had started to form. You knew that was something he was proud of, worried that those around him were not taking him sincerely and that his delicate hands were a sign of his privileged life. Dark eyes watched as you pushed the blankets back and pressed his hand to your stomach and heard his intake of breath.   
“Vraiment. vous êtes sûr? Vraiment?”  
Nodding slowly you felt his hand shaking under your own as your eyes stung with tears.  
“I am with child Gilbert”


	9. Anriette

Days passed. The room remained empty other than you. No one knocked other than Lydia who had been tasked with delivering food to you and cleaning out your chamber pot. Poor girl, carrying a child of her own and she was the one who was cleaning up after you. It was that thought that pulled you out of bed, dressed and as Lydia walked in that morning you had already cleared your pot and stripped your bed.  
“Miss you can’t be- I mean-“  
“You’re carrying a child Lydia, you cannot be cleaning up after me simply because I am sick. So you do not need to be coming down-“  
“But...I have been sent by Colonel Hamilton-“  
“I will speak with him”  
Your sharpness was unwarranted and as you stopped at the door, you turned and faced Lydia and smiled apologetically.  
“Do not worry Lydia, I will speak with the Colonel and you can focus on getting ready for your baby. That’s what you deserve”  
She smiled in understanding, aware that there was something else that was going on but not willing to push it.  
The cold air was welcomed against your skin, the window could only do so much and the heat from the fire was becoming too stifling. Sickness be damned, you would not stay there. The walk to camp had once been easy, something you could do without putting any effort into it and yet in your weakened state it took such effort that by the time you reached the top of the slope, a thin sheen of perspiration covered your skin. Stomach cramping, you stood and allowed the fleeting sickness to pass before continuing on your way. Technically, women were not allowed to enter the men’s camp, a distraction and rules but rules be damned. You marched your way towards the tents, you knew that they would be in the house that was serving as headquarters and before your sickness had taken hold you too had found some form of service in there. A rarity, but one that his Excellency had granted no doubt you were sure, with help from Hamilton and the Marquis.

You went through the back door, the one that led through to the kitchens and then up the stairs, otherwise you would have to pass through the extension they had added and no doubt the men there would have orders to send you away. You were also convinced that Lafayette would have spoken to Hamilton, they were close after all and he had not taken the news well you considered as you made your way into the house.  
“...what?”  
“Gilbert listen to me-“  
“This is not possible- non, you mock me-“  
“Please”  
You’d kept hold of his hand as he began to stand from the bed, panic rising in his eyes. He knew it was possible, he knew damn well what was possible in fact.  
“Y-you cannot be with child, that is not possible”  
Pulling his arm from your grip had toppled you onto the floor as you tried to keep hold. He’d fled the room and Lydia had come rushing back in and found you there and gasping as you coughed and that had been the last you’d seen of him. Now it had been nearly a week and you had seen nothing of him, Lydia had been the one attending you under the orders of Hamilton. You knew that Hamilton had been told by those simple actions.  
“You shouldn’t be here”  
And that simple statement as well.  
“Where is he?”  
“None of your concern. Go back to your room-“  
“Damn it Hamilton! This is beyond you, this is not as simple as it seems and I need it speak to him. Do not make me walk round this house, I’m already worn out from walking here”  
It was a face off, both of you fiery tempered and stubborn, quick witted. His eyes looked you up and down, saw the way you leant against the wall.  
“Come with me”

Thankfully his room was not far and the second cot bed that was usually occupied was empty, so you sat down as he shut the door.  
“You-“  
“I will be leaving by the end of the week but I need to speak with him and explain-“  
“Seems to me there’s not much for you to explain Pitch. You’re carrying his child, a man doesn’t need that spelling out to him-“  
“Alexander...it’s, it’s...this is not the first time I have been with child. There was another time before I came to camp...but it didn’t end as nature intended. It was not an ideal time...nor was the father of the child-“  
“Major André”  
You smiled gently and nodded, watching as he reclined in the chair behind his desk and allowed you to continue.  
“I know you must think me a fool, but it was not how you think. His love belonged to another and yet there was something that I cannot explain. Anger, frustration, perhaps even jealousy...there was something that would bring us back together and we would find solace. I do not doubt that we cared or one another, just perhaps not in the conventional way. He took me into his employment because he knew the world I had grown up and come from. I gave him information, followed people and in the end...in the end I found myself here. By no actions of his you have to understand, no we had fought with one another, I can’t even remember what it was all about but I wanted to prove a point and so I came here-“  
“I could have you arrested-“  
“I have killed men, I have robbed, cheated and I have removed a child from my body. I regret none of these actions. I do not regret being in his employment and working as a spy. None of it. I do not regret coming here. My only regret is that I now have this situation before me and I am unsure where I am meant to go”  
“What makes you think that telling me this will benefit you or for telling the Marquis this?”  
“It’s not about that. When this happened I knew that the father was André, he knew it and we made the choice. Now, I know the people I could see to have the child removed, but it is not as simple as the first time. I cannot say with a surety who...this isn’t-“  
“My god”  
“Now do you see?”  
Hamilton sighed, rubbing his face and staring at you from where he sat opposite now aware of the situation and why it was that you had come searching for the Marquis.  
“If you are unsure then why say anything to him at all? Why place this predicament on him when there is already enough-“  
“Because he has a right to know!”  
“He has a wife!”  
“That is precisely why he should know!”  
The infamous stubbornness appeared from you both, flaring before settling once more and Hamilton took in your appearance and looked out the window.  
“I need to see him, to reassure him that this will not be an issue...I have my residents in York city still, I can return there and nothing more needs to be said. I can, can gain information and send it back-“  
“Do you really think that leaving this soon after André would do anything to help you? There are people who are already unsure as to why you work as closely as you do with the aides, never mind returning to York city so soon after one of their Majors has been hanged as a spy. That is why Pitch you cannot return. Do you see now?”  
“Do you not see that I am already...this child is already four months in me, I will begin to show and then what? I will be drummed out of camp at least let me return to York city where I can be of use. No one would suspect a pregnant woman!”  
“All the while unsure as to whose side you are on-“  
“My child’s. That is the only side that I am on. Besides...there is no one left for me in York city”  
Silence fell and you both watched one another, Hamilton was watching you closer than the conversation you were having. He wanted to see what was truly behind your intentions and reasoning.  
“If you will not tell me where he is then I will find him myself-“  
Pulling yourself up from the bed, you head for the door but Hamilton was there and closing it again. His body heat was a relief to you, his hand gentle on your shoulder. Damn it. These men did not make your life any easier. Why in war did emotions rule? Why had you found these men whose companionship matched your own needs in life, why did they have to be so difficult? You found yourself leaning into his touch, his hand on the door keeping it shut whilst your own hand remained on the handle determined to follow your decision.  
“I cannot tell you where he is. But you cannot leave, he will not allow it if this is truly his child that you carry”  
“But there is also a chance this child’s father is the man whose neck was snapped by your men. He cannot stop me”

 

“Over there by the window, that’s where the lady wants it- gentle! She’s paid good money for this!”  
The house was now filled, the rooms coming together and more faces were walking past to try and glance inside to see who or what was inside. It had only been..a month, a whole month since the last residents had been there and they were still yet to see the mysterious lady who had purchased the house.  
“- I hear she is another mistress of those generals-“  
“A woman of means from England-“  
“In that house all on her own-“  
It was an audacity to think that a single woman could afford such a place and all on her own means. That was why it surely meant that she was the mistress of a high ranking officer- or perhaps she intended to open her own house of ill repute. It made you smile, hearing the whispers and watching from the window of your new parlour as you looked down at the people on the street, watching with nothing more than typical gossiping in mind. Well, they could gossip, in fact you relied on their inability to keep their mouths shut. They would sit in their coffee houses, at their dinners and afternoon luncheons and they would talk of the new mystery woman who had brought the house and sent the residents away all in the same day.  
“Madame, your tutor has arrived-”  
“Show her in”  
You had hired a maid, someone you would pay well and give a chance just as you had been granted. Molly her name, you had no doubt she would prove to be a valuable asset at some point.  
The tutor was the woman you had hired to teach you French, piano and bring the aspects of society that you had otherwise missed thanks to your upbringing.  
“You have learned so quickly, it is truly magnificent-”  
“I have reason enough to work for the end goal, besides, I cannot take all the credit when you are such a fine tutor”  
She had blushed. Or perhaps it was the kiss you had placed on her lips, a gentle, fleeting moment. You enjoyed teasing, it did not phase you as to who or what and that young lady you were sure was curious. Her eyes lingered as you chewed you lip in concentration, her hands gentle as they lay on your own to correct their position on the keys of the harpsichord. Oh yes, she was curious.  
“Have you heard my lady, the Major has returned?”  
“Major?  
“Yes, Major André”  
Ah and so he had made his presence entirely renown. Humming, you lifted your gaze from your book to see your tutor, the lovely Maria, so young and such kissable lips, her eyes were sparkling with excitement. You supposed that the Major was a favourable match, a desirable bachelor.  
“Have you met the Major, Miss Lewis?”  
“Yes madame, well, my father and he dined together at our residence here once. A handsome fellow...talented and very charming-”  
“Indeed. Well, let us hope that he finds a wife soon enough, I fear he may have all the young ladies feinting with his charm”  
She chuckled and returned her attention to the practise writing she had prepared for you. Oh child, you thought, if only you knew what I carried in my belly, a gift from the Major himself.

Miss Lewis stayed for an hour, sighing as you walked her to the door.  
“A deep sigh Miss Lewis?”  
“I fear my lady I have very little left to teach you, you have all that you need from me-”  
“Oh no, I will always have need for you, never fear that Miss Lewis”  
The kiss was deeper that time and you felt her gasp against your lips before she withdrew  
“I- miss- I mean-”  
“Good day Miss Lewis”  
Grinning, you began making your way back up the stairs and heard the giggle as Miss Lewis made her way out to the carriage waiting to take her home.  
“My lady, I have word from the market” Molly approached you, her cloak still slung over her arm,  
“Indeed?”  
“Major André  
“Mmm, walk with me Molly”

 

An advantage to having lived in both sides of a city, is you notice those who reside normally and those that stand out of place. So it was as you were walking one morning. He was in his late twenties, a farmer from Long Island you had heard a soldier repeat. A farmer who happened to know Abigail. It had been a coincidence that you saw them, merely wanting to inspect the market yourself before giving Molly a list of food to purchase. At first you had seen Abigail with a woman, earlier that week in the same market spot and you had thought this woman was harassing Abigail. You’d been in the right mind to approach her and insist that she leave Abigail, yet as you watched you realised that they were acquainted as they spoke in hushed and hurried voices.  
“What are you hiding Abigail?”  
You’d thought nothing of it, perhaps another jaded and used woman from André’s repertoire. But it was more than that, something in the way she lingered and held Abigail close to her. You would remember her face, perhaps it would be of use at some later date. But then the farmer had appeared- except her was no ordinary farmer, no he was the supplier for the soldiers and acquainted with Colonel Cooke. You recognised the Colonel, he had been a frequent of Nancy, a man of indulgence and finery and you were sure, of less than honest acquisitions. You watched these three, followed at a distance as you went about your every day walk or market shop and knew that there was a connection between them and you would find what it was.  
“Pitch!”  
Turning your attention away from Cooke’s house where he and the farmer had just left, you saw Abigail with her basket on her arm as she approached you.  
“Abigail-”  
“My, that is a fine dress. I’m glad you took the money from the Major”  
“I figured that there is no harm in planning for any future predicaments”  
“No indeed” smiling at you once more, you saw her eyes flicker behind you and you were sure she was watching Cooke and his farmer friend.  
“Do you know the Colonel?”  
“Uh- no, yes well- he’s a friend of the Major’s, comes to his dinner parties...if that’s what you can call them-”  
“I can imagine, is that what’s in your basket? Food for a dinner party?”  
“This is beyond any dinner party I’ve known Pitch, there are bottles of wine for each man that attends, food that would feed an entire family for weeks...and then there’s the entertainment” you knew what she was referring to, some of Rosa’s girls had been chosen for this sort of “entertainment”.  
“Will Colonel Cooke be attending?”  
“Yes, him and a couple other high ranking officers, tomorrow evening”  
“Well, perhaps I should pay a visit, thank the Major for his generous gift-”  
“I wouldn’t- the Major has-”  
“I will see you soon Abigail”

 

It was a cold night, a typical winter wind that was only made all the more bitter thanks to the push from the waters edge. But from the windows you could see the orange glowing light of warmth, the sound of raucous laughter and music. The night was already well established and the “flowers” had been delivered just as Abigail had said. Including Philomena. The men at the playhouse would be pleased to see their favourite return to the boards, not to mention those that had paid for her attention. Some of the other women had been pretty, from the playhouses or the other houses that Rosa had always been in competition with. Nancy was missing, that would be the ultimate sting, the favourite was slowly being replaced with younger.  
“You can’t go in” the guard stepped in your way, stopping you with his rifle across his body.  
“I am expected-”  
“The Major gave me strict orders, all women are accounted for-”  
“Ah. Well, you see I am a surprise for the men inside, a treat that the Major thought best to keep secret from them-”  
“No”  
“I’m sure if you called the house maid she would tell you the same, you see it was she that sent for me no more than three days ago...you see, what I am employed to do for the gentlemen is of a very unique...expertise, delicate matters...but if you let me inside, I would be more than happy to demonstrate for you”  
His blush was almost instant, shuffling on the spot to reduce the sudden surge to his member and all at simple suggestion and proposition.  
“They’re in the dining room”  
“Ah” you smiled and stood forward, letting him smell the spiced powder of your hair and body as you leaned in and kissed his cheek.  
“Thank you, I will be sure to reward your kindness” your whisper caressed against his ear and you heard his shaky sigh, simple suggestion. The cold would see to his arousal, you felt no guilt. 

As suspected, the house was warm and it was that same warmth that carried the ensemble of smells. Food, wine, champagne...sweat, vomit. Such an elegant array, it made you roll your eyes. Men who claimed to be the epitome of high society and class and yet there they sat round the table and vomiting into buckets like common dunkards. Fools.  
“Pitch-”  
“I told you I would see you soon Abigail”  
She seemed stunned to see you stood there, a silk gown and your hair curled and pinned, powdered delicately along with your face and a scarlet ribbon around your neck. Such a difference, even from the market mere days ago.  
“Miss- I mean-”  
“It’s still me Abigail, don’t worry-”  
“He’s drunk...and they’ve been smoking”  
“I can smell it, don’t worry yourself, I’ve dealt with fools before who’ve smoked opiates-”  
“She’s here”  
You saw Abigail tense as she took your cloak, she had tried to tell you at the market as if it was her secret to share. But you merely smiled and took her hand, reassuring that you were quite unphased by Philomena’s presence.  
“I am simply here to see what these rumoured dinner parties are. There will be no trouble, the Major is welcome to bed who he pleases”  
Nodding, there was still an unease in Abigail’s eyes but you continued to smile.  
“Where are they?”  
“Through there, I warn you, some of them are in a state”  
“No surprise there, these are foolish men after all”  
There was a hum of agreement as Abigail began her way back down the hallway to the kitchen and you followed the sound of music and arrogant laughter.  
“-Come along André! We want to dance-”  
“I’m sure you do Sir! But surely a moment to admire-”  
His words fell from his mouth and silence fell on the room as you entered the room from the far door. The skirts of your dress brushing over the floor as you held his gaze. The other women, perched in the men’s laps or stood around the table, staring at the face they were sure they recognised and yet could not place. But André did. His hazy and bloodshot eyes, clearly he too had enjoyed his wine, held a moment of clarity as he stared at you, a smirk gracing your rouged lips as you held your hands in front of you.  
“Well...you didn’t tell us there was going to be more arriving André!”  
“You devil! You saved the best for yourself knowing we would be dazzled by this first lot!”  
Still he did not speak. Philomena stared at him, perched in her chair beside him with an arm around his shoulders as she waited to hear his answer. Oh she knew you, she had seen you at the playhouse but you had never been one for her to be worried over, yet suddenly you were stood in front of her dressed in a gown finer than her own and holding the Major’s attention. He seemed stunned, as if he himself was looking upon you for the first time, precisely what you had intended.  
“Well who are you my lovely girl and where has the Major been keeping you hidden?”  
All attention was yours, including the woman and farmer you had seen approaching Abigail in the market. Your plan was working.  
“Well girl?”  
“My name, sirs, is Anriette Allerton”  
You finally allowed your eye to meet with André’s and you saw the recognition in his drunken hazy gaze, suddenly sobering him. Intention clear. You accepted your role. You accepted your work with him. Anriette Allerton was reborn as a spy for the British spymaster.


End file.
